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Under the caption of "Married Women In American
Society," an Englishwoman, writing in The National
Review over the signature of "Maryland," talks
entertainingly as follows:
"It has long been the fashion to regard the position
of all women in American as immeasurably superior to
that of women in any other quarter of the globe.
From a legal point of view this is perhaps true, and
even in social matters it might well be admitted
with regard to the unmarried girl: but on behalf of
married women I venture to make an Englishwoman's
emphatic protest to the contrary. This is probably a
proceeding of extreme audacity, and in order as far
as possible to disarm criticism, I wish to say that
the following remarks are not intended to apply to
the United states at large, of which I know little,
but only to the Southern town where I spent two or
three years. Furthermore, they are proffered not as
universal truths, but as resulting from the
observation and experience of one individual. They
may (and probably do) apply in large measure to all
American society, but their truth is vouched for as
regards one town only. To disprove the universal
affirmative alluded to in my first sentence it is by
every law of logic sufficient to prove one
particular negative, and this is the aim of the
present article."No man, said an inhabitant of
this town of L___ to me, 'cares to play tennis with
a woman except for purposes of flirtation.' For the
special game mentioned he might have substituted the
game of conversation or of social relations as a
whole, and his axiom would have been broadly true.
No man in L___ cares for a woman's society unless he
is actually or potentially in love with her. It may
even be allowable for a married man to 'pay
attention' to a girl, because this also is a
semi-flirtation, with limits clearly understood
beforehand; but let a man of any kind try to make
friends with a married woman, and he will soon find
himself and her in the unenviable position of the
heathen man and the publican. Friendship between the
sexes after marriage is a thing simply not
understood: among Americans it falls under one of
two heads, formality or flirtation.
"Of course, it is, and always will be, a moot
question whether friendship between the sexes is
ever more than a temporary illusion, and whether, as
the old song says, one at least of the parties does
not invariably 'come but for friendship and take
away love.' But to the English mind it would seem
almost a self-evident proposition that such a
friendship is more within the bounds of possibility
when one or both of the parties is deterred from
going further, not only by honor, but by the sense
of previous acquisition, a repletion of soul, so to
speak, that might presumably quench the thirst for
conquest. That this is not the opinion of Americans
is clearly indicated by the following points in
their practice."
"A girl in L___ may ride, drive, or bicycle with a
man to an unlimited extent; she may see him
tête-à-tête in her own house at any time; she may
write to him freely; she may, and even expects to,
receive from him flowers and candy with a frequency
appalling to a frugal English mind. And yet with all
this she neither marries him nor has any intention
of so doing; indeed, unless polyandry were
permitted, she could not. But once she is married,
all this abruptly ceases. For a man to indulge in
any real intimacy with a married woman, whether it
take the form of rides, correspondence, or even
frequent 5 o'clock teas at her own home, is to
expose himself and her first to surprised comment
and then to ill-natured gossip.
The average American man, indeed, takes this so much
for granted that he cannot understand why his wife
should want anything more. Feminine society she may
have all day long if she likes, ladies' luncheons
and ladies' teas seem to him part of the natural
order of the universe; but as far as male
companionship goes, he, in his own eyes, and
presumably in hers, is all-sufficing. Her neighbors
at dinners, (a form of entertainment by the bye much
rarer than in England.) the few men her husband may
bring to the house to dine, the still fewer 'tame
cats' she may meet at teas, and fewest of all, the
men who at a ball will spare to a married woman some
moments ordinarily consecrated to a succession of
immature debutantes this is all she is allowed to
see of the superior sex. And the most remarkable
feature of the whole is the fact that not only is
she unable to make new men friends, but she loses
all her old ones. The very same woman who has been a
'tearing belle' one year is absolutely shelved the
next by the mere fact of marriage. American men have
been heard pathetically to complain that from the
moment of their engagement girls looked coldly on
them. Much more is this true of women, who in
becoming everything to one man becomes less than
nothing to all the rest, even to the 'beaus' or
potential 'beaus' of a few weeks before.
"It might perhaps be inferred from this that the
American wife enjoyed an unusual portion of her
husband's society, and that other men were excluded
simply on the principle of 'two's company.' If it
were so, she would doubtless be a fit object of
envy, or at least would have no right to complain;
but, as a matter of fact, the women of L___ see far
less of their husbands than the average
Englishwoman. Business hours are longer, and on the
remaining hours the clubs are far more apt to
encroach; men's dinners are more common; and
finally, in the Summer almost every couple is
forcibly separated by the heat for three or four
months. Companionship in outdoor amusements is rare,
though latterly on the increase. Hitherto it has
been considered almost a point of etiquette for a
woman when she marries to retire from the world of
sport, and one hears women say with conscious
virtue; "I have never danced" (or 'ridden' or played
tennis,' as the case may be) 'since I married.' The
consequence naturally is that even the man's hours
of exercise are passed away from his wife, and he is
more likely to spend his Summer holiday fishing with
a male friend than rocking beside his wife on a
hotel piazza.
"This, indeed, is one principal cause of the social
phenomenon here treated of. The American woman is
not only less robust than her English sister, but
also less active, and after marriage this difference
is intensified. She has always played but a feeble
game of golf or tennis, and whereas before marriage
there were plenty of men ready to play with her 'for
purposes of flirtation,' after marriage that
incentive is gone, and she is accepted, or rather
refused, solely on her merits as a player. And so
she stops playing, or, indeed, using her muscles at
all, so that if her husband wishes to take any form
of exercise he has to do so without her, and so, a
fortiori, do her old men friends, who are presumably
less tolerant because less interested. It is,
however, fair to say that every year the American
woman seems to realize more clearly the value of
exercise, so that this cause is probably,
transitory.
"Another cause of separation between the men and
women in L___may indisputably be traced to that old
and hackneyed source, the 'servant problem.' The
unmarried girl is (fortunately for her) not
responsible for the vagaries of the cook or the
housemaid, but when she marries she has in America,
thanks to the inferiority of the servants, to devote
to household duties an amount of time and care
unheard of in England. Especially is this true where
there are children, for obviously when it is
necessary for a woman, or she at least thinks so, to
wash and dress her own baby, prepare its food, and
generally perform the offices first of a nurse and
then of a governess, she cannot have time for much
besides. Sport, work, and even companionship,
whether with her own husband or with other men, have
all to go to the wall. Let us hope that the course
of years and changed social conditions will do away
with this cause also.
"But there are weightier reasons than servants or
habits of exercise for the total difference in
mental attitude on this subject between the English
and the Americans. It is not merely that marriage by
tradition or necessity diverts a woman from her old
interests to a greater degr4ee in L___ than in
London; there is far more than this. Marriage for a
woman is regarded in England as the hall-mark of
merit; in L___ it has, so far as the opposite sex is
concerned, almost the painful consequences of the
mark of Cain. And here we touch on a curious double
inconsistency. Men in England do not, as a rule,
want to marry; in fact, a recent writer has told us
that they view the coming on of love with horror;
yet a married woman is ipso facto more desirable as
a companion in their eyes, and it has become a
commonplace of modern English literature that 'girls
are no good,' or that 'nobody cares to talk to
girls.' Men in America regard marriage as a goal,
and prolonged bachelorhood as a disgrace; yet their
friend's wife seems to them either a nuisance or a
negligible quantity. Possibly this is not really an
inconsistency, but points to the fact that to every
man an unmarried girl is a possibility, to the
American delightful to the Englishman terrifying. So
to the Englishman a married woman is a haven of
refuge; to the American she is as salt that has lost
its savor.
"The greatness of this difference in attitude no one
will deny. The comments on it will be various
according to the race or personal idiosyncrasies of
the thinker. To the English mind it may appear
ridiculous, to say the least of it, for a man to see
in every woman a potential wife, and to take no
interest in those outside this category. The
American, on the other hand, regards the
Englishman's dread of marriage and preference for a
friendship where this is manifestly impossible as
something selfish and unnatural, and he claims for
himself the championship of the married state. To
this there is the English rejoinder; No wonder that
men desire the married state, when bachelor lodgings
are as bad and bachelor comforts as few as in most
parts of the United States, so that a wife is the
cheapest and best form of housekeeping; but where is
your boasted admiration for marriage in the
abstract, when you discard your girl friends
immediately on their attaining that state: Being an
Englishwoman, I will not attempt to frame an
American reply, but will content myself with
mentioning a few more points which have come under
my own observation.
"A good deal of what we have been considering may I
think be accounted for by three lacunae in American
society: the want of common topics of conversation,
the absence of what has been called 'country-house
life,' and the practical elimination of the
chaperon. The women in L___ are, as a rule, better
educated than the men, who have little time or
inclination for anything besides the newspaper;
books, therefore, are almost an impossible subject.
Politics, that great bond in England between all
ages and classes, as a recent critic has pointed
out, are in America, broadly speaking, neither a
gentleman's profession or a suitable society topic.
On the interests of the men themselves few women are
competent to talk, for the 'society men' of L___
consist entirely, so far as my experience goes, of
business men, lawyers, and doctors.
Conversation on business cannot be expected, and
should indeed not be encouraged in social
intercourse, and the wearisome discussions on stocks
and 'real estate' my advantageously be confined to
the smoking room; while for men to discourse on law
or medicine to the lay woman simply ends in an
egotistical monologue on the one side, and polite
inattention on the other. And so talk in L___
becomes at home an intermittent exchange of domestic
items, and in society a mere fire of banter,
'chaffing' compliments from the man, and 'bright'
repartees from the woman, all of which is obviously
easier and more amusing between the unmarried, who
consider themselves privileged to go to all or
almost all conversational lengths. To an
Englishwoman accustomed to have her 'want of sense
of humor' daily and hourly impressed upon her, the
marvel is that Americans should make so little humor
of their own go such a long and weary way. But this
is no doubt mere jealousy on our part, the jealousy
which a foxhound must feel on watching the
surprising antics of a French poodle. At any rate,
just as the course of years makes the poodle old and
stiff, so do age and matrimony dry up the fount of
American conversation, and the married woman is
emphatically 'not in it.'
"Again, chaperonage, whether in town or country,
plays a far smaller part in the society of L___ than
it does with us, and the married woman is still
further shorn of importance. When men and girls can
freely ride, drive, bicycle, and sail together, what
need is there for the young and fascinating
chaperon, in England herself often half the
attraction? She has no place in the young American's
scheme of creation, and therefore, in spite of all
her charms he leaves her to languish where in his
opinion is her proper sphere, at home.
"This question admits of infinite discussion leading
to no particular issue. But enough has, I hope, been
said to establish the proposition: that however
transcendent may be the privileges of the American
girl, the American wife has in comparison with the
English wife a less free position, a less full
social life, in short, as she herself would say; far
less of a lovely time." We are perhaps rather tired
of that same American girl, of hearing and even
echoing her praises and observing with wonder or
envy her perfect liberty. It is therefore only right
to note that the natural outcome of her
pre-matrimonial freedom seems in the land of her
birth to be an almost Turkish seclusion after
marriage. If the English girl wishes to copy her
Transatlantic sister, a wish which of late years,
she has steadily been carrying into effect, she
ought in fairness to make her imitation thorough.
She must not expect, in nursery parlance, to eat her
cake and have it too, but must be content to sink
gracefully into the background as soon as the
Wedding March is over. She can have fun and plenty
of it before marriage; afterward the 'way to glory,'
by a reversal of English processes, will be found to
have turned suddenly and uncompromisingly into the
'path of duty.' Whether the consciousness of
glorious triumphs in the past and unbounded domestic
usefulness in the present will fully compensate her,
I for my part cannot pretend to say."
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