Diary in America, Series Two

by Frederick Marryat

That the American women have their peculiarities, and in some respects they might be improved, is certain. Their principal fault in society is, that they do not sufficiently modulate their voices. Those faults arising from association, and to which both sexes are equally prone, are a total indifference to, or rather a love of change, “shifting right away,” without the least regret, from one portion of the Union to another; a remarkable apathy as to the sufferings of others, an indifference to loss of life, a fondness for politics, all of which are unfeminine; and lastly, a passion for dress carried to too great an extent; but this latter is easily accounted for, and is inseparable from a society where all would be equal. But, on the other hand, the American women have a virtue which the men have not, which is moral courage, and one also which is not common with the sex, physical courage. The independence and spirit of an American woman, if left a widow without resources, is immediately shewn; she does not sit and lament, but applies herself to some employment, so that she may maintain herself and her children, and seldom fails in so doing. Here are faults and virtues, both proceeding from the same origin.

I have already in my Diary referred to another great error in a portion of the American women. Lady Blessington, in one of her delightful works, very truly observes, “I turn with disgust from that affected prudery, arising, if not from a participation, at least from a knowledge of evil, which induces certain ladies to cast down their eyes, look grave, and shew the extent of their knowledge, or the pruriency of their imaginations, by discovering in a harmless jest nothing to alarm their experienced feelings. I respect that woman whose innate purity prevents those around her from uttering aught that can arouse it, much more than her whose sensitive prudery continually reminds one, that she is au fait of every possible interpretation which a word of doubtful meaning admits.”

The remarks of Miss Martineau upon the women of America are all very ungracious, and some of them very unjust. That she met with affectation and folly in America, is very probable—where do you not? There is no occasion to go to the United States to witness it. As for the charge of carrying in their hands seventy-dollar pocket-handkerchiefs, I am afraid it is but too true: but when there is little distinction, except by dress, ladies will be very expensive. I do not know why, but the American ladies have a custom of carrying their pocket-handkerchiefs in their hands, either in a room, or walking out, or travelling; and moreover, they have a custom of marking their names in the corner, at full length, and when in a steamboat or rail-car, I have, by a little watching, obtained the names of ladies sitting near me, in consequence of this custom, which of course will be ascribed by Miss Martineau to a wish to give information to strangers.

The remark upon the Washington belles, (note 2) I am afraid is too true, as I have already pointed out that the indifference to human life in America extends to the softer sex; and I perfectly well remember, upon my coming into a room at New York with the first intelligence of the wreck of the ‘Home,’ and the dreadful loss of life attending it, that my news was received with a “dear me!” from two or three of the ladies, and there the matter dropped. There is, however, much truth in what Miss Martineau says, relative to the manner in which the women are treated by their lords and masters, in this new country. The following quotation from the work is highly deserving of attention:—

“If a test of civilisation be sought, none can be so sure as the condition of that half of society over which the other half has power,—from the exercise of the right of the strongest. Tried by this test, the American civilisation appears to be of a lower order than might have been expected from some other symptoms of its social state. The Americans have, in the treatment of women, fallen below, not only their own democratic principles, but the practice of some parts of the Old World.

“The unconsciousness of both parties as to the injuries suffered by women at the hands of those who hold the power, is a sufficient proof of the low degree of civilisation in this important particular at which they rest, while woman’s intellect is confined, her morals crushed, her health ruined, her weaknesses encouraged, and her strength punished, she is told that her lot is cast in the paradise of women: and there is no country in the world where there is so much boasting of the ‘chivalrous’ treatment she enjoys. That is to say,—she has the best place in stage-coaches: when there are not chairs enough for everybody, the gentlemen stand she hears oratorical flourishes on public occasions about wives and home, and apostrophes to woman: her husband’s hair stands on end at the idea of her working, and he toils to indulge her with money: she has liberty to get her brain turned by religious excitements, that her attention may be diverted from morals, politics, and philosophy; and, especially, her morals are guarded by the strictest observance of propriety in her presence. In short, indulgence is given her as a substitute for justice.”

If Miss Martineau had stopped here, she had done well; but she follows this up by claiming for her sex all the privileges of our own, and seems to be highly indignant, that they are not permitted to take their due share of the government of the country, and hold the most important situations. To follow up her ideas, we should have a “teeming” prime minister, and the Lord Chancellor obliged to leave the woolsack to nurse his baby; Miss M forgets that her prayer has been half granted already, for we never yet had a ministry without a certain proportion of old women in it; and we can, therefore dispense with her services.

There is, however, one remark of Miss Martineau’s which I cannot pass over without expressing indignation; I will quote the passage.

“It is no secret on the spot, that the habit of intemperance is not infrequent among women of station and education in the most enlightened parts of the country. I witnessed some instances, and heard of more. It does not seem to me to be regarded with all the dismay which such a symptom ought to excite. To the stranger, a novelty so horrible, a spectacle so fearful, suggests wide and deep subjects of investigation. If women, in a region professing religion more strenuously than any other, living in the deepest external peace, surrounded by prosperity, and outwardly honoured more conspicuously than in any other country, can ever so far cast off self-restraint, shame, domestic affection, and the deep prejudices of education, as to plunge into the living hell of intemperance, there must be something fearfully wrong in their position.”

Miss Martineau is a lady; and, therefore, it is difficult to use the language which I would, if a man had made such an assertion. I shall only state, that it is one of the greatest libels that ever was put into print: for Miss Martineau implies that it is a general habit, among the American women; so far from it, the American women are so abstemious that they do not drink sufficient for their health. They can take very little exercise, and did they take a little more wine, they would not suffer from dyspepsia, as they now do, as wine would assist their digestion. The origin of this slander I know well, and the only ground for it is, that there are two or three ladies of a certain city, who having been worked upon by some of the Evangelical Revival Ministers, have had their minds crushed by the continual excitement to which they have been subjected. The mind affects the body, and they have required, and have applied to, stimulus, and if you will inquire into the moral state of any woman among the higher classes, either in America or England, who has fallen into the vice alluded to, nine times out of ten you will find that it has been brought about by religious excitement. Fanaticism and gin are remarkable good friends all over the world. It is surprising to me that, when Miss Martineau claims for her sex the same privilege as ours, she should have overlooked one simple fact which ought to convince her that they are the weaker vessels. I refer to what she acknowledges to be true, which is, that the evangelical preachers invariably apply to women for proselytes, instead of men; not only in America but everywhere else; and that for one male, they may reckon at least twenty females among their flocks. According to Miss Martineau’s published opinions, there can be no greater weakness than the above.