|Give Her Broader Interests and She Will Cease to Be Vain and Frivolous.||
s the film suggests, the lives of nineteenth-century women were deeply shaped by the so-called cult of true womanhood, a collection of attitudes that associated true womanhood with the home and family. In their homes, presumably safely guarded from the sullying influences of business and public affairs, women effortlessly directed their households and exerted a serene moral influence over their husbands and children. By both temperament and ability, so custom had it, women were ill-suited to hard labor, to the rough-and-tumble of political life, or to the competitive individualism of the industrial economy.
In fact, the cult of true womanhood seldom provided a very accurate description of women's daily experiences, even for relatively privileged women like Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton. Anthony offers an especially striking example of the paradoxes of the cult of true womanhood. Like many other nineteenth-century women (before the Civil War, but especially after it) Susan B. Anthony did not marry, did not have children, did not stay home, traveled constantly, and was self-supporting through most of her life. Ironically, the closest Anthony came to the domestic ideal was when she took over Stantons household work to free Stanton to write and think for the movement.
And work it was! Although advocates of female domesticity described households as if they took care of themselves, even in prosperous families wives cooked, cleaned, laundered, sewed, nursed sick family members, took care of their children, and performed a host of other labors. In 1864, author Lydia Maria Child (whose husband was a lawyer) used a diary entry to summarize her work for the year. In addition to writing 53 articles and correcting proofs for a new book, the long list included: Cooked 360 dinners; Cooked 362 breakfasts; Swept & dusted sitting-room & kitchen 350 times; Filled lamps 362 times. Child also took care of sick friends and family members, made 83 items of clothing and assorted linens, preserved two pecks of fruits, mended clothes, and accomplished other innumerable jobs too small to be mentioned.
This work was vital to household economic survival. Only among the very wealthiest families were husbands incomes large enough to purchase everything a family needed to survive. In the poorest of families, wives scavenged the wharves and alleys for abandoned or unguarded food, fuel, and clothing. Even in middling families, a wifes labor in keeping a garden, making clothes, economizing with food, and even producing some of the familys furnishings (ottomans, pillows, mattresses) and equipment (like soap) enabled her household to maintain a comfortable standard of living on incomes that were often otherwise insufficient. But nineteenth-century Americans were eager to represent the home as distinct from the increasingly exploitative work place. With economic value calculated more and more exclusively in terms of cash and men increasingly basing their claims to manhood on their role as breadwinners, womens unpaid household labor went largely unacknowledged.
Also hidden by the cult of true womanhood was womens extensive participation in labor directly in the cash economy. The cult of true womanhood did not protect the millions of enslaved African-American women from the back-breaking labor that built the cotton economy of the South and propelled the industrial development of the North. Along with enslaved men, enslaved women planted, hoed, harvested, built fences and roads, and waded in snake-infested marshes to construct irrigation ditches. As Frederick Douglass pointed out to Elizabeth Cady Stanton during the debates over the Fourteenth Amendment, being a women never saved a single female slave from hard labor, beatings, rape, family separation, and death. (Even free women had no legal rights to their bodies, their children, their possessions, or, in fact, their freedom of movement.)
Meanwhile, industrialization also forced free women in northern working-class households to labor for cash, as street vendors, tavern-keepers, boarding-house operators, paid domestic servants, garment workers, prostitutes, and a variety of other occupations. Young women from New England farms provided the nations first factory labor force in the textile mills of Lowell, Massachusetts, beginning in 1814. A surprising number of middle-class families also depended on the paid labor of wives. Lydia Maria Child, whose earnings as an editor and writer supported her family, is one example, although the most famous is probably Harriet Beecher Stowe, whose income as a writer far outstripped that of her college professor husband.
In other ways, too, nineteenth-century women were not in fact the fully domestic creatures, literally confined to their households, that the cult of true womanhood seemed to describe. Indeed, they were perhaps all too publicly visible for the tastes for some observers (which may help explain why critics were so insistent on the issue of womans proper place). Enslaved women in the South and working-class free women in the North were constantly visible on city streets, going about their jobs, selling goods in open air markets, or scavenging for food. Like Stanton and Anthony, tens of thousands of middle-class and elite women became involved in reform movements, often spending years of their lives deeply engaged in very public affairs, writing for newspapers, giving speeches, raising money, founding charitable institutions, and lobbying political bodies.
But if the cult of true womanhood obscured the daily labor and lives of all women to some extent, it nevertheless did not operate identically in all womens lives. Virtually by definition, women of color and poor white women were excluded from true womanhood. To the extent that white women from more prosperous households succeeded in embodying true womanhood in their own lives, they inevitably did so at the expense of other women, whose labor produced so many of the commodities and services of the perfectly domestic household. Here was the final paradox of nineteenth-century true womanhood.