Free Free Woman by Marion Meade Page A

they knew about her was what they read in the papers, and, frankly, they were not impressed. In truth, they felt resentful. A woman running for President? None of them had dared to dream on so grand a scale. Their most radical demand was the right to vote. The feminists had never actually thought about women running for political office.
    As Vicky went to work altering the thinking of America, her biggest obstacle turned out to be another woman named Victoria. At that time, Queen Victoria was the most powerful monarch on earth. Her reign, which lasted sixty-four years from 1837 to 1901, was called the Victorian Age. People who lived then, both in England and in America, were called Victorians. That period of history is known for being stuffy, dull, and narrow-minded.
    In a way, Queen Victoria regarded herself as a freak of nature. Although she did a man's job, she had a good excuse —she had inherited the throne. In all other cases, she did not approve of women working outside the home. In her daily life, she carried out the duties of queen as well as those of wife and mother.
    Not surprisingly, she hated the whole idea of women's rights. The notion of women doctors especially shocked her. "The idea of allowing young girls and young men to enter the dissecting room together," she wrote to her prime minister, "is awful." She underlined "awful."
    But the queen didn't dislike women. In one area she sympathized greatly with her own sex. When she thought of "us poor women" being exploited by sex-mad husbands, she simply fumed. Sex was a part of life the queen gladly would have done without.
    People in those days had a special way of looking at women. The Victorian woman was not supposed to be a mere human being. She was better—she was an angel. Even women thought so.
    A popular novel, written by a woman, had this to say: "God, the Maker, tenderly anchored womanhood in the peaceful, blessed haven of home; and if man is ever insane enough to mar the divine economy, by setting women afloat on the turbulent, roaring sea of politics, they will speedily become pitiable wrecks." Flowery, but that's how women saw themselves. They expected men to treat them reverently.
    Since women were supposed to be delicate creatures, they often had fainting spells, sick headaches, and a host of nervous disorders. Blushing was fashionable. Sex was never discussed, and if a woman enjoyed it, she didn't say so. Modesty became a cult. When women went to doctors, they often were too shy to say what part of their bodies hurt. For the sake of fashion, they wore corsets so tightly laced they could barely breathe and layers of skirts and petticoats weighing up to twelve pounds.
    A refined girl had only one purpose in life—to find a husband. She was educated and trained for the marriage market. Once she had achieved her goal, she spent the rest of her life in the home, raising her children and obeying her husband. The vast majority of marriages were minor disasters, but few women rebelled. In 1867 there were only 9937 divorces in the whole country.
    The Victorian woman understood the rules, and she played by them.
    Then there was Victoria Woodhull, the "new woman." Her most redeeming feature, in the opinion of her contemporaries, was her beauty. She had a classic aquiline profile on the left side of her face—her right profile was a bit irregular— and a lithe, graceful body. Her hair, once long, was now cropped short like a boy's, a fashion considered daring and extreme.
    Unlike most women in the nineteenth century, Vicky was athletic and enjoyed sports. She knew how to ride a horse, row a boat, swim, dance, and play billiards. She could walk all day and never had been known to faint or blush.
    The last place Vicky wanted to spend her time was at home. The Victorian world, however, was not geared for dealing with a woman who appeared in public, at least not without a male at her side for protection. One evening shortly before seven p.m., Vicky and Tennie