| | | | It is a happy characteristic of our generation that | philanthropic persons are not satisfied with relieving | the suffering that thrusts itself upon their notice, but | are constantly hunting for new kinds of misery to | succour. So long as this benevolent spirit is abroad, | we cannot doubt that, sooner or later, the patient | afflictions of the chaperone will attract its notice. | Why should not her emancipation be attempted, now | that we have emancipated every other enslaved or | oppressed race? Is she not a woman and a sister, or, | at least, a female relative? Why is she to be the only | slave in the Queen's dominions? | Many curious kinds of villenage or serfdom grew up | under the feudal system, and many curious rights | prevailed under them. There was the right of feeding | your cows upon a peasant's vineyard, and there was | the right of opening a peasant and putting your feet | inside him to keep them warm when you came home | from hunting, and there were other rights more | irritating still, the mention of which is only suitable | for an antiquarian's pages. But the only one of these | rights that appears to have survived to the present day | is the villenage of the chaperone. The persons to | whom it is incident are mothers of marriageable | daughters until the possibility implied in that | adjective is converted into a fact. The suit and service | required under it is very severe. It is commonly | performed at the hour when the human race in general | are in bed. Under it the villein chaperone is bound to | follow her liege young lady, at any hour of the | evening at which she may be summoned, to dinner, | party, or ball (generally the later), there to sit or stand, | as circumstances may require, for any number of | hours, until such time of the night or morning as it | shall please the aforesaid liege young lady to go home. | The atmosphere in which this service is to be | performed approaches as nearly to that of the Black | Hole of Calcutta as the difference of climate will | permit. No fatigue is admitted as an excuse either for | not obeying the summons to go out, or for desiring to | get back home to bed. Unless the liege young lady | happens to be of an unusually merciful disposition, | physical infirmity confers no exemption upon the | villein. The only alleviation allowed to her is the | relaxation of exchanging scandalous stories with | other unhappy females in the same condition as | herself, who may be standing by her side on the | staircase, or ranged together with her along the wall, | in the common performance of their long and | toilsome duty. If her strength should fail her in the | trial, she must not look for mercy. One of the worst | evils of slavery is the cruelty it begets in the master's | heart. The young lady knows that her mother was | created for no other purpose except to wait in corners | or on staircases, while she dances and flirts into the | small hours of the night; and she has no notion of | setting a divine institution at nought from any | misplaced feelings of compassion. | Whether this is exactly the old people's view of the | institution of chaperonage, we will not undertake to | say: but it certainly is the young people's, and that, | after all, is the important matter. The theory, which in | former ages prevailed, that mothers underwent all the | fatigue of the office as a favour to their daughters, is | now quite obsolete. The subject has been more fully | studied, and the object for which mothers exist is | much better understood in the present day than it used | to be in days of less enlightenment. They are not | ornamental, nor, as a general rule, useful. It is | obvious at first sight that they are not allowed to exist | because they are pretty to look at. Nor do they exist | for the sake of bringing up their daughters. Such a | theory would be much too humiliating for the | daughter to endure, and is certainly much too | troublesome to be needlessly pressed on her by the | mother. No doubt, the use of mothers must be a | profound mystery to young ladies while they are still | in the hands of masters and governesses. But directly | they come out of the schoolroom the mystery is | solved. They recognise the wonderful adaptation by | which a use is found for all created things, even the | most useless; and they see at once that the final cause | of mothers is to take young ladies out. For their part, | they lose no opportunity of giving a full effect to this | providential arrangement. The mothers submit | meekly and do as they are told. They belonged to a | generation when girls were admired for being | languishing and helpless, and were trained | accordingly; and they are, consequently, wholly | incompetent to contend with the robust and athletic | natures which the healthier taste of our age has | developed in the existing race of young ladies. So | they go unresistingly whenever the summons is issued; | and if they are fortunate enough to get inside, are | packed in tightly-fitted rows against the wall. There | they contrive to exist in a semi-torpid condition, | staring sleepily at the undulating mass before them, | half stifled by the atmosphere and each other's | crinolines, until their daughters are satiated with the | pleasures of that almost stationary embrace which in | England is called a valse. Then, when their ordeal is | over, they wearily rumble home by the morning's | light, trying to remember where the next night's | torture is to be passed. The wan complexion and | pendulous cheeks which, about this time of the year, a | well-employed chaperone begins to exhibit, would | melt any but the stony heart of a fashionable daughter. | The only consolation to them is the hope they | constantly cherish that some day or other, in | consequence of these exertions, they may transfer the | duty of attending upon their pleasure-loving | daughters to some deluded partner, and then their | nocturnal servitude may be at an end. Of course, this | release sometimes does take place; but not so often as | might be wished. There are few cases more pitiable | than that of the veteran but unemancipated chaperone, | whose daughters cannot get married. Season after | season they have to congratulate fellow-labourers | who have escaped, while they remain in bondage; and | night after night they have to follow the half-old-maid | daughters, crosser and more desperate every year, to | the scene of their fruitless labours. These are the | cases we should recommend the most earnestly to the | consideration | | of philanthropists. The emancipation of worn-out | chaperones is surely an aim worthy of a section in the | Social Science Association. There are many charities | for the relief of far less deserving objects. Of course, | the machinery must differ slightly from the | recognised machinery of such bodies. Instead of a | Secretary and a Committee, and Solicitor and a | Banker, it would be necessary to have a corps of | eligible and devoted young men. For it is obvious | that the only mode in which the distressed chaperones | in question could be emancipated would be by | marrying off their unmarriageable daughters; and this | would certainly entail some self-sacrifice upon the | devoted young men. But surely it would not be more | than the suffering to be relieved might fairly demand. | We commend the whole subject to the consideration | of Lord Raynham and his friends, feeling sure that | they will do their little possible in the matter. Lord | Raynham proposed that in the case of cab-horses, | inspectors should be appointed to see that they were | not over-driven, and that they were properly taken | care of in the stables; and that in cases where the | ill-treatment had been so severe that the cab-horse was | broken down, the magistrate should have the power of | ordering it to be destroyed. We think chaperones | have a right to the same status as over-driven | cab-horses: and we trust that Lord Raynham will insert | clauses to that effect to his next Bill for the | Suppression of Cruelty to Animals. | But if the chivalry of the young men of England is not | equal to the one scheme for liberating the chaperone, | and Lord Raynham fails in accomplishing the other, | surely something might be done to alleviate her | sufferings. We can quite sympathize with the | reluctance of the ball-going world to abandon this | time-honoured institution. It is true that she is of no | use. She can only, in reality, watch over her young | charge's proceedings in the carriage on their way to | and from the entertainment ~~ at which time that | amiable young person rarely misconducts herself in | the way of flirting, for want of the male assistance | necessary for that process. In the crowded ball-room | itself, the chaperone is, for all practical purposes of | supervision, both blind and deaf. As she sits in the | chaperones' row, an impenetrable veil of floating | tarlatan prevents her from seeing tender glances, and | a very industrious band of music equally precludes | her from hearing any of those soft nothings that distil | so sweetly through curled mustachios. But, though | she is useless as a fact, she is splendid as a fiction. | She gives the shadow of respectability, and, where the | reality is slipping away from us so very fast, it would | be improvident to let the appearance go at the same | time. But, though we would never dream of | abolishing the chaperone, surely there might be some | economy of the labour employed, and therefore of the | suffering inflicted. To sit against a wall staring at the | backs of a crowd, is an occupation which, no doubt, | brings a great deal of moral heroism into play, but | which does not require a great many hands, or rather | eyes, to perform it. As a mere symbol or emblem of | respectability, one old lady could fulfil the duty as | well as a hundred. She might be told off for the | service by an arrangement among the young ladies | themselves; or a poor widow might be found to take | the office for a consideration. An advantage of this | plan would be that a little gallery might be provided | for her in which she should sit, far above the heads of | the crowd; and in that elevated position she would not | only be a much more striking and conspicuous | symbol of the respectability of the entertainment; but | for the purpose of watching the proceedings she | would be much more efficient than any number of | wearied mothers along the wall below. She would | not be engrossed by the occupation of struggling for | breathing space, but would have full leisure for noting | the manoeuvres of the charming couples in the centre | of the room. It would only be a revival of the plan by | which abbesses of old used to chaperone their nuns. | It does not differ very much from the mode in which | constituencies keep watch over the frail beings whom | they send to bear a part in the mazy dance of | Parliament. The tendency towards unauthorized | flirtations, and the danger of objectionable alliances, | is greater there than in any ball-room; but, on the | whole, the chaperones who sit in the reporters' gallery | contrive to maintain to a very considerable extent the | respectability of their charges. Fortified by such | precedents, we cannot but hope that we may live to | see the adoption of a reform by which such a vast | amount of anile misery will be saved. |