Lectures of Lola Montez/Chapter 5
In attempting to give a definition of strong-minded women, I find it necessary to distinguish between just ideas of strength and what is so considered by the modern woman's rights movement.
A very estimable woman, by the name of Mrs. Bloomer, obtained the reputation of strong-minded by curtailing her skirts six inches, a compliment which certainly excites no envious feeling in my heart; for I am philosophically puzzled to know how cutting six inches off a woman's dress can possibly add anything to the height of her head.
There have been a great many wonderful discoveries in phrenological science of late years, but I have not heard that Mr. Fowler has pushed his investigations so far as to be able to affirm that the skirt is the seat of the mind. At the present rate of scientific discovery, however, it may not be long before such a proposition will be seriously put forth by some distinguished reformer; but until then we must be permitted to adhere to the ancient idea of strength, and to measure a woman by the old-fashioned intellectual standard, before we venture to affirm that she is strong-minded.
One or two hundred women getting together in a convention and resolving that they are an abused community, and that all the men are great tyrants and rascals, proves plainly enough that they—the women—are somehow discontented, and that they have, perhaps, a certain amount of courage, but I cannot see that it proves them to have any remarkable strength of mind.
Really strong-minded women are not women of words but of deeds, not of resolutions but of actions. History does not teach me that they have ever consumed much time in conventions and in passing resolutions about their rights; but they have been very prompt to assert their rights, and to defend them too, and to take the consequences of defeat.
When Barri de St. Auner, Henry the Fourth's Governor of Leucate, was on a journey to the Due de Montmorenci, he was seized by the Spanish soldiers who were on their way to besiege that town, and who rejoiced that, having the Governor in their possession, the gates of the place would readily be opened to them; but Constantia de Cecelli, the governor's wife, at once assembled the garrison and put herself so resolutely at their head, pike in hand, that she inspired the weakest with courage, and the besiegers were repulsed wherever they presented themselves. Shame, and their great loss, having rendered the besiegers desperate, they sent a message to this heroic woman, telling her if she did not yield the City they would hang the Governor, her husband. She replied with tears in her eyes, "I have riches in abundance, I have offered them and do still offer them all for his ransom, but I would not ignominiously purchase a life which he would reproach me with and which he would be ashamed to enjoy. I will not dishonor him by treason against my king and country."
The soldiers made another unsuccessful attack, and then savagely put her husband to death, and raised the siege. Henry IV. afterwards sent this lady the brevet of Governor of Leucate with the reversion for her son.
That, now, is the example of a real strong-minded woman, and history is full of such examples, which indicate the courage and intellect of woman, and her right to claim equality with the harder sex whenever Heaven has imparted to her the gift of genius. I can hardly see how it is possible that any woman of true genius should ever feel the necessity of calling together conventions for the purpose of resolving that she is abused. One woman going forth in the independence and power of self-reliant strength to assert her own individuality, and to defend, with whatever means God has given her, her right to a just portion of the earth's privileges, will lo more than a million of convention-women to make herself known and felt in the world. There is such a great difference between strength of mind and strength of tongue! Men only laugh at a convention of scolds, and pay no more attention to what they say than to the chattering of a flock of blackbirds; but they will gaze with admiration and respect on a woman who sets herself to a brave and manly task, and actually accomplishes a heroic deed. Genius has no sex. Look back upon the page of history, and see how clearly this fact is proved. When women attack and defend fortifications, when they command armies and obtain victories, what do you call it? That is no drawing-room business. If a Jean de Montfort can do a better business at defending her Duchy of Bretagne, with sword in hand, than any man of her day, why, then, let her fight. You surely would not call her off to the business of frying pancakes and brushing down cobwebs. Let woman, like man, do that for which nature has best fitted her. Look at Margaret of Anjou, the active and intrepid soldier and general, whose genius supported for a long time a feeble husband, taught him how to conquer, replaced him upon a throne from which he had fallen, twice relieved him from prison, and, though oppressed by fortune and by rebels, did not bend until after she had decided in person twelve battles! What have you to say about the "sphere" of such a woman as that? Would you take her from her career of glory on the battle-field and apprentice her to the business of dress-making? And, with such an example before you, will you pause to dispute about the intellect of woman?
Look again at Jane of Belleville, widow of Mons. de Chisson, who was beheaded at Paris on the suspicion of carrying on a correspondence with England and the Count de Montfort. Filled with despair at the death of her husband, and exasperated at the shame heaped upon his name, she sent her son secretly to London, and when she was assured that he was safe, she sold her jewels, fitted out three ships, and put to sea to revenge the death of her husband. She made several successful descents upon Normandy, and the inhabitants of that province were forced to be idle spectators whilst their villages were in a blaze at the hand of one of the handsomest women in Europe, who, with a sword in one hand and a torch in the other, urged on the carnage, and directed all the horrors of the war.
There can be no doubt of woman's intellect and woman's power in that affair; but we shall be told that such examples are almost solitary cases. No, they are not. It will puzzle any man to find in the pages of history as many instances of real and startling heroism in his sex as I could hunt up in mine. There have been whole eras in which the heroism of woman shone out with a general lustre which made it the rule and not the exception of her character. Such was particularly the case in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, especially in Hungary and in the islands of the Archipelago and the Mediterranean, when they were invaded by the Turks.
Once, indeed, for the space of four hundred years, the heroism of woman was a potential power in Europe, showing itself in the midst of convulsions and great revolutions.
Of course all well-read people (and almost everybody in this country is well-read) have some general knowledge of the heroic history of the women of Cappadocia, called the Amazons: and although much that ancient history records of them may be fabulous, yet enough is proved to show that the men of that day played an entirely subordinate part both in the halls of legislation and the strife of the battlefield. Old Priam is made to say:—
According to Diodorus, the Amazons were regular woman's rights women; for they made laws by which the women were enjoined to go to the wars, and the men were kept at home in a servile state, spinning wool and doing all manner of household work. No woman was allowed to marry till she had slain at least one enemy on the battle-field.
The right breasts of all the female children were seared with a hot iron, in order to give the freest use of the right arm in wielding the sword or in shooting arrows; and they even debilitated the arms and thighs of the male children, that they might be rendered unfit for war. That, I should say, was carrying the woman's rights question to an extent that ought to satisfy even our modern agitators. But in justice to these terrible Amazon women, it must be confessed that the world has never known better and braver warriors than they.
And at a much later day the habits and manners of chivalry, by bringing great enterprises, bold adventures, and extravagant heroism into fashion, inspired the women with the same wild taste. In consequence of the prevailing fashion, fine ladies were seen in the midst of camps and armies. They gave up the soft and tender passion and delicate offices of their sex, for the toilsome occupations of war. During the Crusades, while animated by the double enthusiasm of religion and valor, they often performed the most incredible exploits on the field of battle, and died with arms in their hands by the side of their lovers.
The heroism of the women of Suli was scarcely eclipsed by that of the noble Spartans who fell in the pass of Thermopylæ. They bore all the brunt of the terrible attacks of Ali Pacha, shedding their dearest blood in defence of their native fastnesses, defying tyranny, and setting an example of a patriotism which stands even with the highest monument which the heroism of man ever raised to his fame. All was a festival of death behind the terrible and resistless march where the Suliot women brandished the weapons of war.
The army of the Arabian chief Kalad was accompanied by a phalanx of women, who performed all the duties of cavalry, and formed a distinguished portion of the army. I have read that the present king of Siam has a chosen band of female warriors formed of the most beautiful women of his land. The world is familiar with the heroism of the Prefect Gregory's daughter, who repulsed the immense and powerful army of Abdallah; and we all remember Joan of Arc, whose cruel death will ever be a stain on the escutcheon of England.
The Countess of St. Belmont used to take the field with her husband and fight by his side. She sent several Spanish prisoners which she took to Marshal Tenonieres, and at home this beautiful lady was all affability and sweetness, and devoted herself to study and to acts of piety. The history of the Countess of Belmont always reminds me of some exquisite lines of Moore:
Portia, the beautiful daughter of Cato of Utica, was not only an adept in philosophy, but she gave proofs of the highest spirit of heroism.
When Brutus, her husband, was preparing for the assassination of Cæsar, she shrewdly guessed that some great and dangerous enterprise was on his mind, but Brutus would not trust her with the secret; and she resolutely cut herself with a knife to show by constancy and patience in suffering pain, that she was capable of heroic deeds, and fit to be trusted with desperate secrets. When Brutus saw this, he lifted. up his hands to heaven, and begged the assistance of the Gods, that he might live to be a husband worthy of such a wife as Portia, and he communicated to her the plan for killing Cæsar; and when she heard that Brutus had been taken, and had killed himself, she heroically followed his example, and died by swallowing burning coals.
The Countess of Derby was one of the best heroines of English History. In that memorable struggle between the House of Stuart and the Parliament, she was the last person in the British dominions who consented to yield. Collecting all her vassals in Latham castle, she defended it with the greatest bravery, after the heart of every male hero had given out.
When Robert, Duke of Normandy, was wounded by a poisoned arrow, the physicians declared that nothing could save him but to have the wound sucked by some one, whose life would surely fall a sacrifice; the Duke disdained to save his own life by hazarding that of another,—but Sibilla, his wife, performed the fatal office, and died to save her husband.
Thus all history is full of startling examples of female heroism, which prove that woman's heart is made of as stout a stuff, and of as brave a mettle as that which beats within the ribs of the coarser sex.
And if we were permitted to descend from this high plane of public history, into the private homes of the world, in which scx, think you, should we there find the purest spirit of heroism? Who suffers sorrow and pain with the most heroism of heart? Who in the midst of poverty, neglect, and crushing despair, holds on most bravely through the terrible struggle, and never yields even to the fearful demands of necessity, until death wrests the last weapon of defence from her hands! Ah, if all this unwritten heroism of woman could be brought to the light, even man himself would cast his proud wreath of fame at her feet!
The discovery of America is due to the far-seeing sagacity and patronage of a woman, Queen Isabella of Aragon; for when the king and his court had refused with scorn the petition of Columbus, the great discoverer had recourse to the queen, who furnished him with the means and aid, which resulted in his triumphant success.
Isabella united all the graces and feminine qualities of the woman with the soul and daring of a hero, the profound and artful address of a politician, the extensive views of a legislator, and the courage of a conqueror. She attended the council chamber, she mounted on horseback and paraded the ranks of the army, animating them to battle and conquest; while her name appears jointly with that of Ferdinand in all public acts, and she was really the mind of the throne and the hero of the battle-field.
Not only have women distinguished themselves as warriors, but they have shone as transcendent stars in the firmament of state. As diplomatists and politicians, many women have shown that they were intellectually equal to the wisest men. What monarch of her day can boast of greater intellectual powers than Semiramis? though with sorrow it must be confessed that she possessed all the vices as well as the intellect of a male monarch. She prevailed upon her infatuated husband to invest her with the sovereignty for the space of five days—an interregnum which she commenced by putting him to death. History also accuses her of having afterwards selected her favorites in succession from the flower of the army, putting them afterwards to death, lest they should be living witnesses of her crimes. We have good reason to be shocked at the terrible deeds of this mighty woman; and her example has been adduced to prove that women cannot hold power without abusing it. But with all her crimes Semiramis was far less wicked than hundreds of male monarchs, who have murdered their wives, and even their own children, when they stood in the way of ambition or their passions.
What monarch of ancient times had a more splendid reign than Zenobia, queen of Palmyra and the East? Her intellect, her sagacity, and her courage made her the peer of any male sovereign of her time. But alas! as hundreds of crowned men have done, she sullied all this by an act of cowardice for which she ought never to be forgiven, by throwing the blame of her obstinate resistance to the Romans upon her prime minister, Longinus, who was in consequence immediately borne away to death by Aurelian. But, as Gibbon well writes, "the fame of this great man will survive that of the queen who betrayed him."
In the list of great female sovereigns few have been more celebrated than Queen Elizabeth; and what man has ever sat on the proud English throne who was wiser in diplomacy, or firmer in rule than she? She has been called "England's most gigantic monarch," a thing which may be said without shame to any king who ever lived. We speak this of her intellect alone, for we are incapable of feeling any admiration for the heart of Elizabeth. Her dissimulation, her jealousy, and her ungenerous treatment of Mary, have thrown a black shadow upon her heart which the sun of time can never lift.
What does history say of the intellect, the genius, the diplomatic skill of Catharine II., Empress of Russia? What king in her day was a match for her? She was bold, grasping, ambitious, and intellectually powerful enough to make half a dozen of such male monarchs as are now seated upon the thrones of the world.
And we may say as much of Christina of Sweden, who excelled in every masculine power. Indeed this giantess ungraciously despised everything that was feminine. On one occasion she dismissed her female attendants, and laid aside the garb as well as the manners of her sex, saying: "I would become a man; yet I do not love men because they are men, but because they are not women." She was called the "female Samson." Olympias, the consort of Philip of Macedon, and mother of Alexander, was scarcely less gifted or less a hero in her passions and power; and we might add a long list of women. who have been intellectually more than a match for the cunningest man-monarchs of their day.
I do not by any means hold up these gigantic women as models of character; but then, bad as they were, they were infinitely better than the general run of the male rulers of those days. It is only because they were women, that history has singled out the bad of their lives, and refuses to dwell upon the great and brave deeds which place them equally by the side of the greatest heroes or monarchs of the harder sex. Let historical justice be done to the intellect of woman, and I am content to leave the history of her heart and moral life, without comment, to defend itself by contrast with that of the other sex.
It is true, that there is hardly a great or heroic woman of history, whose name has escaped the contagion of scandal. Queen Elizabeth, Mary of Scotland, Margaret of Anjou, Catharine of Russia, Christina of Sweden, the Empress Josephine, even poor Joan of Arc, and almost every great woman of antiquity, have shared a common fate in this particular, while great men have passed measurably unscathed because, I suppose, the world had no right to expect any degree of morality in the life of a great man. But woman—ah! she must be a saint, even while she hurls a tyrant from his throne, and does the rough work of war and revolution. Well, so she should be, and thus leave to man the entire monopoly of all the sin of the world!
While the male historian seeks for faults in the lives of the great female characters of history, let me ask him where, on his side of the house, he can point to such illustrious examples of virtue and heroism as are seen in the history of Lucretia and the Princess Octavia? But though it has to be admitted that woman has distinguished herself on the battle-field and in the Senate, it has been said that she has never risen anything near to an equality with man in the department of science and literature.
That woman's mind, like her physique, is generally less coarse, and strong, and heavy than that of man, must be admitted; but what she lacks in strength she gains in speed, and she has shown an aptness for learning, and even a capacity for profound study, which commanded the admiration of the heaviest philosophers of the other sex.
Cornelia, the mother of the Gracchi, was one of the most learned persons in the study of the sciences in all Rome, and her public lectures on philosophy were listened to by all the wise men of her time.
What man in the eighteenth century was more classically learned than Madame Dacier? She not only translated Homer, and several other of the Greek and Latin classics, but she assisted her husband in the translation of Plutarch's Lives, and performed deeds of scholarship which called forth the admiration of the learned world.
The most accomplished linguist of the last century, was a woman by the name of Elizabeth Carter. She not only translated works from the Greek, Latin, and Hebrew, but she spoke with great fluency and case French, Portuguese, Arabic, Italian, German, and Spanish. Helena Lucretia Canaro was the most learned person in Venice, in her time. She was admitted to the University at Rome, where she had the title of "humble" given to her, in consequence of her quiet devotion to study; and she had a doctor's degree conferred upon her at Padua. All who passed through Venicc were more solicitous to see her than any of the curiosities of that superb old city.
Jane of Aragon was so celebrated for her learning, wit, beauty, and courage, that a collection of poems in her praise was published at Venice, in the Latin, Greek, Italian, French, Spanish, Sclavonic, Polish, Hungarian, Hebrew, and Chaldean languages. The Marchioness of Chatelet, Ann Clifford, Sophonisba, daughter of Asdrubal of Carthage, and hundreds of others who might be named, were scarcely less gifted in the circles of science and learning. Some of the most celebrated authors of France have been women What male author of her time, in France, presumed to stand by the side of Madame de Stael for vigor and strength of intellect? And Madame de Genlis was really the author of more valuable and successful works of literature than all the male authors of France, in her time, put together. And the most powerful writer of France, at this day, is a woman—George Sand. The genius and mental powers of Madame Roland gave her a place among the highest minds of France. Among the distinguished authors of even proud England, Lady Montague holds a distinguished place. She stood at the head of the literary wits of her day; and even Pope and Horace Walpole were not averse to admitting her "equality" of intellect. It was this gifted lady who had the immortal honor of introducing inoculation into England, having first heroically tried its efficacy on her own child. To skip over a long list of distinguished literary women of England, who are among the best authors that country has produced, I may mention that the most considerable English author of the present day has a rival in the genius of his own wife—a thing which very few men can brook, and Sir Edward Bulwer is by no means an exception to this vanity of his sex; for I blush to say that he has not even allowed his wife's good fame to remain undisturbed.
But then, that is a thing which has rarely ever been allowed to a woman of genius who has devoted her pen to the public service, or mingled in the popular tumults of the world. It was not allowed to Madame de Stael, Madame de Genlis, Lady Montague, any more than it was allowed to that greatest ornament of ancient literature, the gifted and beautiful Aspasia, who was called the "mistress of Pericles."
But there is a class of heroines who have been more powerful in the world than the mighty women of the sword or of the pen. I mean those who have united great personal beauty with rare intellectual powers! In such women there is a power stronger than strength. The annals of Greece and Rome, from the memorable days of Troy, down to the Roman age, furnish nothing more remarkable than the omnipotent sway of female genius and beauty in the affairs of the world. The first revolution in which kingly power was destroyed was a woman's deed. And the next revolution in which plebeians were elevated to the consulship was also the work of woman.
It was the beauty and genius of Aspasia that caused the famous war of the Peloponnesus, and conducted Athens to its most refined epoch. It was the power of female intellect and beauty that drove into banishment such great men as Aristotle and Euripides, at a time when their genius was the chief glory of their country. Indeed there has been no age of history yet, when the combined power of intellect and beauty in a woman has not made her greater than either diplomacy or the sword.
One of the most remarkable of this type of heroines was Cleopatra, Queen of Egypt. To the great beauty and gracefulness of her person, Cleopatra added the attractions of wit, affable manners, and high mental acquirements. Amid the pleasures and avocations of a court, she ceased not to cultivate learning; and, in addressing ambassadors of different languages, she astonished them with the correctness and fluency of her diction. If you say of this great woman, that it was by ambition and passion that she finally lost her power and her life, I shall ask you of how many thousands of male monarchs has the same thing been more than true?
Cleopatra was born in troublesome times, and drew her first breath in the contagion of a licentious court; while in tender years, she was raised to the seducing eminence of a throne, and surrounded by a crowd of flatterers, who neither dared to reprove, nor desired to correct, the increasing follies of her conduct.
As a beauty, she was admired; as a queen, she was addressed with adulation; and possessing the means of indulgence, she yielded to pleasure in all its various forms.
I do not offer one excuse for her faults. I only demand that a great woman should be judged by the same rules by which a great man is judged. If the lords of creation demur to this, I shall challenge them to show me by what divine right they are justified in a carcer of pleasure which should be forbidden to woman!
The mighty Thermatis, another Queen of Egypt, was made quite as powerful by her beauty and intellect, as Cleopatra. In fact, in almost every ancient court, the beauty and wit of women was the secret but potent power which controlled the councils of diplomacy and the state. It was the power behind the throne which was greater than the throne itself. The lady in Hudibras did not exceed the truth when she gave the following humorous description of her powers:—
And this is as true of modern as of ancient courts. Rousseau asserts that "all great revolutions were owing to women." The French revolution, the last great and stirring event upon which the world looks back, arose, as Burke ill-naturedly expresses it, "amidst the yells and violence of women." We accept the compliment which Burke here pays to the power of woman, and attribute the coarseness of his language to the bitter repugnance which every Englishman of that day had to everything that was French.
No, Mr. Burke, it was not by "yells and violence" that the great women of France helped on that mighty revolution—it was by the combined power of intellect and beauty. Nor will women who get together in conventions for the purpose of berating men, ever accomplish anything. They can affect legislation only by quiet and judicious counsel, with such means as control the judgment and the heart of legislators, And the experience of the world has pretty well proved that a man's judgment is pretty easily controlled when his heart is once persuaded.
These convention women, it is to be hoped, would make good wives and mothers, if they should ever turn their thoughts in that direction; but they certainly are very poor politicians.
They may rest assured, too, that they will never get the right to vote by clamorously demanding it in public. No, the wise and cunning of my sex all know that, in politics, they must not even let the right hand know what the left hand doeth. And what do I care who carries the votes to the box, if I am allowed to say how the voting shall be done? The will of every intellectual and adroit woman does go to the ballot-box, with a voice a hundred fold more potential than if she rushed into the coarse crowd to carry it there herself. In such a contact the mass of women would only lose the delicacy and refinement which now constitute their only charm, without getting any benefit for the terrible sacrifice. The kitchen and the parlor, and all the sacred precincts of home, would be immeasurably impaired, while there would be no gain whatever to the councils of the state. If a woman is qualified to be a happy wife and a good mother, she need never look with envy upon the more gifted woman of genius, whose mental powers, by fitting her for the stormy arena of politics, may have unfitted her for the quiet walks of domestic life. In the woman of rare mental endowments, there may be a necessity in her own nature, forcing her into a field of action altogether different in its sphere from the duties usually allotted to woman. Where this is the case, she must obey her destiny; but the woman who has only those humbler charms which fit her to be the light and the presiding goddess of the beautiful circle of "home," is really to be envied by her more gifted sister whose powers tempt her out upon the turbulent sea of politics and diplomacy.
But, alas woman's lot in this sphere of home is too often a sad and thankless one. It is demanded of her that she make a home whether her husband provides the means or not, and it must be a happy one, though his temper is as savage as that of a tiger.
And how many thousands of women do make a home, and, for their children, a happy one too, when spendthrift husbands have deprived them of all resources but their own industry and skill? and how many millions of the "lords of creation" really live on the skill and industry of their wives? The greatest tragic actress that ever lived, Maria Arne, was only tempted on to the stage after the extravagance of her husband, Theophilus Cibber, had left her no other resources. Her début was so much admired, that her salary was voluntarily doubled after the first night. When Garrick was made acquainted with the circumstances of this worthy lady's death, he exclaimed, "Then Tragedy has expired."
Laura Barri, a celebrated Italian lady, was a scarcely less illustrious example of the same thing. She began to read lectures on natural philosophy, and continued the practice until she died. Her singular acquirements procured her the honorable title of Doctor of Philosophy.
History is full of such examples. But what should most command our admiration is that unwritten page of history where millions of heroic women have toiled on through disease, and poverty, and desertion, too brave to give up, even under the most terrible burdens, and too proud to let the world see the oceans of tears they shed in secret. While discouraged man, inglorious, flies to the gaming table, or seeks oblivion in the bottle, his heroic wife sits, almost the night through, sewing by the dim light of a candle, to earn the wherewith for to-morrow's breakfast! She is the only heart in that household which does not yield to despair—the only prop which does not break under the pitiless weight of misfortune!
What do men mean when they call woman the weaker sex? Not, surely, that she is less strong and brave of heart and purpose to meet the tidal shocks of life! Not that she is not every whit the peer of man in all the elements of heroism and genuine nobility of soul! That masculine philosophy which regards and would treat woman as an inferior being, is not only an insult to that God who created her as the equal companion of man, but it is contradicted by every stage of history and experience. Her excellence may be generally displayed in a less ostentatious field than man's, but still the idea of perfect equality is not impaired on that account.
Nor does this idea of woman's equality destroy the idea that the woman who is a wife should study to reflect the opinions and the honor of her husband, provided he is a man who has opinions and honor to be reflected. I fully endorse the sentiment of Plutarch, that "a wife should be as a mirror to represent her husband," provided he is such a husband as an honorable woman could justly represent.
Erasmus said, "As a looking-glass, if it be a true one, faithfully represents the face of him that looks in it, so a wife ought to fashion herself to the affection of her husband, not to be cheerful when he is sad, nor sad when he is cheerful."
Such, it is but just to confess, have also been the sentiments of the greatest of women who have been wives and mothers. The gifted and beautiful Cornelia, mother of the Gracchi, whom some frivolous companions would have enticed from home and its duties, said, pointing to her children, "These are my jewels, my pastime, my opera, my amusements." When the wife of Philo, the father of philosophy, was asked why she wore no gold, she made this reply, that she thought her "husband's virtues sufficient ornaments." And it was the boast of the wife of Leonidas, that "her countrywomen alone could produce men." Thus in the best type of the female character, there is a firmness which does not exclude delicacy, and a softness which does not imply weakness.