Page 59 of Lady Daring
“Miss Henrietta Wardley-Hines,” she said, and Henrietta stepped forward, feeling her delicate skirt swirl about her legs and her single, nearly sheer petticoat. She felt the penetrating stares of the crowd taking in her ruffled neckline, the loosely gathered sleeves, the pearl pins gleaming in her cinnamon hair.
“Miss Wardley-Hines is the daughter of Sir Jasper Wardley-Hines and sister to the 8thBaronet Wardley, Sir Charleton Wardley-Hines, and owner of the estate of Birch Vale in Derbyshire. Tonight’s topic of debate is as follows: What is the appropriate response of dependents when those charged to protect them fail in their duty? Miss Wardley-Hines,” Bess said grandly, “the stage is yours.”
Lady Bess fell away, but the gleeful, exultant look in her eye gave Henrietta heart. She might look like a rumpled kitten in this gown, come to put her milk teeth in the old argument that Mary Wollstonecraft had tried to reanimate. But she was a tiger,with fangs and claws, and she meant to leave a mark, if she could. She cleared her throat and began.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Most esteemed ladies, gentlemen, visitors, and friends.” Henrietta’s voice felt soft and cautious in her throat, not entirely hers. “Six thousand years ago, when the world was framed new, almighty God made a garden, and within it, as the crown of his creation, he made man. And beside him, from the same material and just as innocent, God made woman to be man’s helpmeet, his companion, his wife. Milton, in his grand poem, describes paradise as a scene of perfect amity, of devotion and unity, of the most serene, wedded bliss.”
Her ears pinkened as a couple of men shifted and cleared their throats. She was very conscious of the thin cotton fabric of her gown. It might have been wiser to wear one of Aunt Davinia’s monstrosities with its layers of stays and petticoats and flounces as a shield from the probing eyes of her audience.
“But we fell,” she went on, her voice gaining strength. “We fell from this original state, and the relations between men and women now are the result of sin and trespass.” Except she had felt nothing sinful in her conversation with Darien over Etruscan artifacts, nothing of trespass in his solid strength beside her as they rode on their errands around town. And the heat that rose in her when he touched her, when he pulled her into his armsat the Bicclesfield ball—that was the problem with temptation, wasn’t it? It felt delicious and thrilling and right.
She cleared her throat and continued. “It is therefore the result of grievous error that we have this system that has prevailed for thousands of years.” She straightened her back and felt her lungs grow fuller, her voice larger. “It was the result of a curse that a woman should submit to a man, and he should rule over her, that she should have travail in childbirth. It was the serpent’s doing that woman was made subservient, less than, dependent on man. Women’s second-class, inferior status was not at all as God designed us to be.”
She heard the rustles and murmurs, the encouraging sound of knuckles rapping on wood, saw the silent nods of feminine heads. She also heard grumbles of disapproval. This was not the quiet attention granted to the disciples of Minerva. One man shouted, in an irritated voice, “Adam’s rib!”
Henrietta flinched and looked down at her notes. If she let the distractions rattle her, she would forget all her laboriously outlined points. But this debate she had argued many times, in Miss Gregoire’s parlor and Lady Bess’s salons, against everyone from her brother to the solicitor who insisted she could neither use her inheritance to buy a mill nor own it in her name.
“Our own King James Bible tells us, in its first account of creation,” she said, “that man and woman were equivalent: ‘man and woman he created them.’ Chapter the second, verse seven-and-twenty,” she added for the benefit of those whom she knew intended to quote the Bible back at her. “This is our proof that God intended, from the very beginning, for women to be fully human, equals and co-heirs to the perfection of His creation.
“We have seen well enough in our own time, without consulting the long scroll of history, to know what pain and sorrow this consequence of Eve’s trespass has caused,” she said. “We see men made too weary by the world to show kindness andbasic decency to their families. We see women cast out of their homes because the men upon whom they depend have failed them. Children starve in the streets without care or guidance, their innocence taken too soon. Men abandon their families for women not their wives, and women abandon their children. This is not at all what God intended.”
There were more rustles and murmurs now, in higher registers as well as lower. She was attacking the one male prerogative that crossed class: his superiority to women. Henrietta raised her voice. “And in our very government, among the leaders who are appointed to guide and protect us, we see a shocking lack of attention to the plight of the many unfortunates who have been brought to their troubles by lack of male protection.
“This is the result of a belief that conceives of woman not as a person in her own right but as an appendage, a piece of movable goods to be sold or exchanged or thoughtlessly used. And it is wrong. This belief, that woman is inferior, worth less than a man,” she said loudly, clearly, “is wrong. It is a curse. It is not as we were made to be.
“In this enlightened year of 1792, so close to the turn of a new century, when we see the light of liberty and equality flaming up around us”—there were many shocked gasps in response to this—“is it not time that we of England took our rightful place as the leaders of the world and the bearers of the light? Is it not time that we remake our society in the pattern in which God intended?
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have upheld for too long a law that does not benefit us. We have carried forth a belief that has done irreparable harm. It is time for a change. We need new beliefs and a new law that gives women the right to govern themselves with the same freedom and authority as men. Andwe need a system of education that gives women a grasp of knowledge and reason, for these are the foundations of virtue.
“I submit,” she said, raising her voice to be heard over the rising din, “that all our injustices, and our fall from grace, can be remedied when we undo the curse that makes women weak and dependent, for true dignity and human happiness rest on strength of mind and body. Only when women are treated as equal heirs to reason can we have the world our Creator designed for us.”
Her listeners could no longer remain silent. Among cries of “Justice!” and “Liberty!” and “England!” she heard “Abomination!” “Outrage!” “Heresy!” A few men spat on the floor.
“We shall now entertain counter remarks,” Lady Bessington shouted, that battle gleam in her eye. She was enjoying the upheaval. The men in the front row of the spectator’s gallery had notepads out, pencils furiously at work, and among them sat one lady journalist in a prim navy skirt and smart fitted jacket, the feather in her hat bobbing as she scribbled on her pad.
“Mr. Spickey,” Bess said, acknowledging the portly gentleman who rose to his feet. “You have one minute, sir.”
Henrietta quailed as she recognized the deacon of St. Marylebone Church. Mrs. Spickey sat behind him, red and rigid with outrage, and beside her sat Lord Pinochle, his eyes glittering with glee. Behind them, a wilting Constance avoided Henrietta’s gaze.
Mr. Spickey pulled the lapels of his double-breasted coat over his large, corseted stomach. His periwig sat atop a broad, bulbous forehead shiny with perspiration. His breeches showed every bulge and bunch of the flesh beneath them, and the heels of his buckled shoes were dangerously high. His fashion was à la mode, but his ire was ancient.
“May I remind you,” Mr. Spickey boomed, “that woman proved herself inferior when she defied the commandment of her Creator. God saw fit to give her a guide and governor to keep her from her erring ways. Eve cost us paradise!”
He had to shout over the roars of approval and endorsement, as well as the boos and hisses from the other side of the room. “Not a day goes by but that every man here, I don’t doubt, has suffered female disobedience. Woman requires a ruler because she would create utter chaos—nay, she would bring on the end of the world if left to her own willful ways!”
He sat down to resounding applause and mopped his brow with a silk handkerchief. Pinochle handed him a silver box, and he promptly took snuff. Constance’s eyes were as round as saucers.
“Rebuttal,” said Lady Bessington, turning to Henrietta.
The crowd seemed larger, people still coming in the doors, yet a breathless silence fell. This was so much different, so much worse, than debating a point at the Minerva Society or over a beautifully laid dinner table at her uncle’s house. How had she ever thought she could do this? She must look so foolish.
“If women must rely upon men,” Henrietta said, “then their errors and foolishness must be attributed to a lack of proper guidance. Given that so many women do fall into error, shall we presume that the men in their lives have failed to properly protect, or instruct, or control them?
“And what is their recourse when they find themselves cast into the street, unprotected, left to make their own way, and reviled for it? Would it not be wiser to educate women, to cultivate reason and morality and a sound character? The honeysuckle twining about the oak may adorn it with beauty but may choke and kill its host. A woman taught the necessary skills of self-governance can survive when her support is taken from her, rather than be a burden on others.”
Her own Reverend Dingley stood. She felt the scorn on his face like a slap.
