state of frightful despair. My first-born was sickly and very
troublesome (how could it be otherwise?), needing constant care and
nursing. My husband chopped wood for our support. Of the injustice of
bringing children into the world to such poverty and misery, I was
then as sensible as now. I was in despair. I felt that death would be
preferable to maternity under such circumstances. A desire and
determination to get rid of my child entered into my heart. I
consulted a lady friend, and by her persuasion and assistance, killed
it. Within less than a year, maternity was again imposed upon me, with
no better prospect for doing justice to my child. It was a most
painful conviction to me; I felt that I could not have another child
at that time. All seemed dark as death. I had begged and prayed to be
spared this trial again, till I was prepared to accept it joyfully;
but my husband insisted on his gratification, without regard to my
wishes and conditions.
“I consulted a physician, and told him of my unhappy state of mind,
and my aversion to having another child, for the present. He was ready
with his logic, his medicines and instruments, and told me how to
destroy it. After experimenting on myself three months, I was
successful. I killed my child about five months after conception.
“A few months after this, maternity was again forced upon me, to my
grief and anguish. I determined, again, on the child’s destruction;
but my courage failed as I came to the practical deed. My health and
life were in jeopardy; for my living child’s sake, I wished to live. I
made up my mind to do the best I could for my unborn babe, whose
existence seemed so unnatural and repulsive. I knew its young life
would be deeply and lastingly affected by my mental and physical
conditions. I became, in a measure, reconciled to my dark fate, and
was as resigned and happy as I could be under the circumstances. I had
just such a child as I had every reason to expect. I could do no
justice to it. How could I?
“Soon after the birth of my child, my husband insisted on his
accustomed indulgence. Without any wish of my own, maternity was again
forced upon me. I dared not attempt to get rid of the child, abortion
seemed so cruel, so inhuman, unnatural, and repulsive. I resolved
again, for my child’s sake, to do the best I could for it. Though I
could not joyfully welcome, I resolved quietly to endure, its
existence.
“After the birth of this child, I felt that I could have no more to
share our poverty and to suffer the wrongs and trials of an unwelcome
existence. I felt that I had rather die at once, and thus end my life
and my power to be a mother together. My husband cast the entire care
of the family on me. I had scarcely one hour to devote to my children.
My husband still insisted on his gratification. I was the veriest
slave alive. Life had lost its charms. The grave seemed my only
refuge, and Death my only friend.
“In this state, known as it was to my husband, he thrust maternity
upon me twice. I employed a doctor to kill my child, and in the
destruction of it, in what should have been the vigor of my life,
ended my power to be a mother. I was shorn of the brightest jewel of
my Womanhood. I suffered, as woman alone can suffer, not only in body,
but in bitter remorse and anguish of soul.
“All this I passed through, under the terrible, withering
consciousness, that it was all done and suffered solely that the
passion of my husband might have a momentary indulgence. Yet such had
been my false religious and social education, that, in submitting my
person to his passion, I did it with the honest conviction that, in
marriage, my body became the property of my husband. He said so; all
women to whom I applied for counsel, said it was my duty to submit,
that husbands expected it, had a right to it, and must have this
indulgence, whenever they were excited, or suffer; and that in this
way alone could wives retain the love of their husbands. I had no
alternative but silent, suffering submission to his passion, and then
procure abortion, or leave him, and thus resign my children to the
tender mercies of one with whom I could not live myself. Abortion was
most repulsive to every feeling of my nature. It seemed degrading,
and, at times, rendered me an object of loathing to myself.
“When my first-born was three months old, I had a desperate struggle
for my personal liberty. My husband insisted on his right to subject
my person to his passion, before my babe was two months old. I saw his
conduct then in all its degrading and loathsome injustice. I pleaded,
with tears and anguish, for my own and my child’s sake, to be spared;
and had it not been for my helpless child, I should then have ended
the struggle by bolting my legal bonds. For its sake, I submitted to
that outrage, and to my own conscious degradation. For its sake, I
concluded to take my chance in the world with other wives and mothers,
who, as they assured me, and as I then knew, were all around me,
subjected to like outrages, and driven to the degrading practice of
abortion.
“But, even then, I saw and argued the justice of my personal rights in
regard to Maternity, and the relation that leads to it, as strongly as
you do now. I saw it all as clearly as you do. I was then, amid all
the degrading influence that crushed me, true and just in my womanly
intuitions. I insisted on my right to say when and under what
circumstances I would accept of him the office of Maternity, and
become the mother of his child. I insisted that it was for me to say
when and how often I should subject myself to the liability of
becoming a mother. But he became angry with me; claimed ownership over
me; insisted that I, as a wife, was to submit to my husband, ‘_in all
things_;’ threatened to leave me and my children, and declared I was
not fit to be a wife. Fearing some fatal consequence to my child or to
myself, being alone, destitute, and far from helpful friends, in the
far West, and fearing that my little one would be left to want, I
stifled all expressions of my honest convictions, and ever after kept
my aversion and painful struggles in my own bosom.
“In every respect, so far as passional relations between myself and
husband are concerned, I have ever felt myself to be a miserable and
abject woman. I now see and feel it most deeply and painfully. If I
was with a child in my arms, I was in constant dread of all personal
contact with my husband, lest I should have a new maternity thrust
upon me, and be obliged to wean one child before its time, to give
place to another. In my misery, I have often cried out, ‘O God! is
there no way out of this loathsome bondage?’
“It was not want of kindly feelings towards my husband that induced
this state of mind, for I could and did endure every privation and
want without an unkind feeling or word, and even cheerfully, for his
sake. But every feeling of my soul did then, does now, and ever must,
protest against the cruel and loathsome injustice of husbands towards
their wives, manifested in imposing on them a maternity uncalled for
by their own nature and most repulsive to it, and whose sufferings and
responsibilities they are unprepared and unwilling to meet.
“Yours,
“—— ——.”
“Strong language!”—“Too strong and sweeping epithets!” Can you, as a
man, a husband and a father, read the above extract, and feel or say
that my language is too strong? The above is the experience of a living
wife and mother, nearly _verbatim_ as written by herself. It is a
simple, unvarnished, affecting story, but bearing on its face the stamp
of truth, and the evidence of a sense of conscious injustice inflicted
by the husband, and of a degradation self-inflicted, solely to escape
what seemed to her a greater evil. Can such “loathsome injustice,” on
the part of husbands and fathers, towards their wives and unborn
children, be reprobated in too strong terms?
Husbands! it is your licentiousness that drives your wives to a deed so
abhorrent to their every wifely, womanly and maternal instinct; a deed
which ruins the health of their bodies, prostitutes their souls, and
makes marriage, maternity, and womanhood itself, degrading and
loathsome. No terms can sufficiently characterize the cruelty, meanness,
and disgusting selfishness and injustice of your conduct, when you
impose on them a maternity so detested as to drive them to the
desperation of killing their unborn children, and often themselves.
Is it a wonder that wives seek to justify themselves in resorting to
ante-natal child-murder? I do not wonder at it. The wonder is, that a
woman should live one hour, as a wife, with one who imposes on her a
repulsive maternity, thus doing to her, and her child, the greatest
possible wrong; or who can, for one moment, subject her to the liability
of becoming a mother, when her own nature repels the office. One such
maternity, imposed after the husband knows that his wife shrinks from
it, should lead every woman to “bolt the legal bond” that binds her to
such a man. If she does not, but submits to the injustice, she wrongs
her child, her husband, and her own soul. The same plea may be offered
in extenuation of ante-natal child-murder, under circumstances of
enforced, repulsive maternity, that is offered in justification of
Margaret Garner, the fugitive-slave mother, who cut the throat of one
child and threw another into the river, to save them from the savage
clutch of licensed kidnappers.
_Ante-natal child-murder,—a mother killing her unborn babe to save it
from a worse doom!_ It is a fearful alternative; one whose results to
the soul of the mother are no less deadly than to the forming body of
her child. It prostitutes, crucifies, murders, whatever is pure, lovely,
wifely, motherly and womanly in her soul; and, for the time being, as it
were, blots from it the superscription and image of God. She murders her
unborn babe, and often herself, to save herself and child from what she
considers a more loathsome and repulsive doom. Who can harshly and
coarsely condemn her? She feels that death to herself and babe, at her
own hands, is far preferable, and less criminal, than a loathed
maternity, and the birth of an unwelcome and hated child. To save
herself and child from slavery, the slave mother cuts its throat, and
then her own. The wife, to save herself and child from what she regards
as a no less horrible doom, imposed by the husband, destroys her unborn
child, and brings death to her own soul, if not to her body.
O man! where is thy manhood, that thou canst inflict this wrong on the
woman, who, with an all-trusting love, lays herself in thy bosom,
reposing fearless confidence in thy manly love and power to shelter her
from harm? Husband! where is thy love, thy justice, thy tenderness, thy
manliness, thy conscience, thy God, that thou canst impose these
sufferings and responsibilities on thy wife, despite her tears and
entreaties to be spared till she is ready joyfully to welcome them for
thy sake and her own? Fathers! where is your reverence for your
offspring, your tender regard for the claims of your unborn children,
and your respect for all that qualifies you to be fathers and your wives
mothers, that you beget children to ante-natal murder, or to the, if
possible, more terrible doom of an existence undesired, and abhorrent to
the mothers that bore them?
Husbands! listen to the voice of God, speaking to you through your
wives, and, in the name of those most dear to your hearts, and, most
essential to the happiness and glory of your life and your homes, give
heed to their protests against an undesigned and repulsive maternity!
H. C. W.
LETTER V.
THE WIFE’S APPEAL—THE HUSBAND’S RESPONSE.
DEAR FRIEND:
In the three preceding letters, I have endeavored to present to you the
crime of an undesigned and undesired Maternity, especially in its
bearing on the mother and the child. I have shown how it wrongs the
mother by crushing out of her heart her love and respect for her
husband, and converting them into a settled feeling of bitterness and
contempt: and also by filling her with feelings of murderous hostility
towards her child, and driving her to deeds which her soul abhors,—thus
destroying her self-respect, and making her to seem like a loathsome and
degraded object in her own estimation. I have shown, also, how it wrongs
the child, by depriving it of a mother’s loving sympathy, by forcing it
into an existence that is detested by father and mother, by stamping on
it, before birth, disease and crime, and tendencies to all that is evil,
and thus subjecting it to the detestation of its fellow-beings, in its
future manhood or womanhood. The father perpetrates the deepest crime
against the child, by committing its ante-natal education to the hands
of one to whom its very existence is her abhorrence and loathing. What
greater crime could a husband and father commit against his wife and
child? None; no, _none_!
In this letter, I will give you the experience of a husband and wife, as
given by themselves, and by a mutual friend, who is also a wife and a
mother. I extract from their letters with few omissions. See, in the
experience of this wife and mother, the deep, unutterable anguish, and
the deeper woe of conscious degradation, to which woman, in her mistaken
notions of conjugal duty, her fear of losing a husband’s love and
confidence, and her horror of an undesired maternity, will subject
herself. Read over her experience, as detailed by her friend and
herself, and then say if any crime man can commit, can surpass that
which husbands and fathers often do to their wives and children, merely
for the momentary gratification of their sensual passions:
“Some fifteen years ago, a man of culture, and engaged in public life,
was united in marriage with an intimate friend of mine. With pride and
confidence, he selected her from a large and admiring circle of
friends, as one embodying his ideal of womanly excellence. My friend
was thought a fortunate girl (only seventeen), and many thought him
quite as fortunate. They were much in society, and she began to enjoy
life intensely.
“She was too much a woman not to desire offspring some time, but she
felt unprepared to have maternity forced upon her youth and
inexperience. It came at a time when her husband’s calling led him
much from home, to mix in the society she so much enjoyed, and which
she felt was contributing to make her what she so much desired to
be,—her husband’s fitting and equal companion. It was not without a
severe struggle she resigned these advantages and checked her
aspirations. However, she submitted, though she keenly felt the
sacrifice.
“Though overwhelmed with the greatness of her responsibilities, and an
undefined dread of physical suffering, she was determined not to
appear weak, but bravely to meet and bear the burden imposed upon her.
Her husband was absent when the trial hour came; but when he returned,
he took his babe and wife to his bosom with pride and joy, though its
gestational development had, apparently, scarcely given him an anxious
thought.
“My friend’s future looked bright. She did not see or understand the
fact, that she was to continue to develop the germs of human beings
into life, with little sustaining help from the father, whose caresses
generally ended in exhausting her vital powers by passional
indulgence. She did not complain, but rather rejoiced, as she saw her
other powers of attraction to her husband depart one by one, that she
was so organized as to be able to meet what she knew he considered an
essential want of his nature.
“Eleven years passed, at which time she gave birth to her sixth child.
She was a devoted mother, of a joyous spirit, and possessed of
wonderful elasticity. But woman cannot be entirely happy in maternity
alone, without the presence and sustaining power of her husband. If
she is a true wife, she desires to be more to her husband than merely
the mother of his children.
“Her husband made for her a beautiful material home, and seemed happy
when with her; but he was much away; he sought other pleasures, social
and intellectual, in which she could not participate;—she must stay at
home, alone, with her children. Little did he know the trials of
patience and strength in his wife, in being compelled to bear the
responsibility of the health and training of her little ones alone.
The world called her a happy wife, and she felt that she ought to be
so; but a dark cloud was coming over her once joyous spirit. She began
to realize the fact, so fatal to a wife’s happiness, that her husband
did not feel her to be his equal, and a fitting companion to meet his
social and intellectual necessities. When he brought home a friend,
she listened to conversations and discussions in which she could not
participate. She felt keenly the growing distance between them, and
she knew too well how it had come about.
“She quietly made up her mind to have no more children. How did she
propose to bring it about? Not by asking her husband to deny himself
his accustomed indulgence; no, that, she thought, would be to cut
herself off from her strongest hold on his affection and confidence,
and to sever the last link of the chain that bound them together. She
did not expect that any precaution would enable her to escape
conception. She brought herself to do what was most repugnant to her
nature, and which, as she felt, would destroy her self-respect, and
make her, in her own estimation, a degraded woman, namely, TO PROCURE
ABORTION.
“The first shock given to her constitution by this abuse of her nature
was comparatively light. But once did not suffice. As a longer
interval passed without a new-born babe than ever before, she had
begun to take her place by her husband’s side in society, earnestly
praying that she might be spared maternity evermore. Her husband
delighted to have her with him. He felt that he had a right, by law
and the customs of society, to his gratification; he persevered in
demanding it, and she continued to yield. Several times in four years
did she nip the young flower of fœtal life in the bud, and each time
told more and more terribly on her constitution, until the power of
conception was nearly destroyed, at little more than thirty-five years
of age. She was shorn of her Womanhood, and became a sickly,
broken-down wife and mother, in the very spring-time, as it were, of
her life, being driven frequently to perpetrate a degrading outrage
upon herself, or endure a maternity abhorrent to her soul;—and all to
gratify the sensual passion of her husband, thinking thereby to secure
his affection and respect. How fatally mistaken! By yielding, she
strengthened his _passion_, but not his love.
“Reflecting on her sad experience, in the light of your book on
‘Marriage and Parentage,’ which I had placed in her hands, she saw
clearly where the wrong had been, but for a long time felt powerless
to destroy what she regarded as her last hold on her husband. He was
absent, and I prevailed on her to write and lay the matter frankly and
plainly before him, and send him your book. She was then prostrated in
body and soul by the last outrage upon her womanly and maternal
nature. She wrote, and, hoping that you may do good with these
letters, the husband and wife have granted me the privilege of copying
portions of them for you. Here is a part of hers to him:
“‘MY DEAR HUSBAND:
“‘I feel like lying down and weeping that I have become unworthy,
intellectually and spiritually, of mating with you; but _love_ is the
foundation of true marriage, is it not? and I feel strong in my
love-nature. It is high, and deep, and rich, and who shall say, if
rightly cultivated, what flowers of intellect and spirituality might
not blossom out from its soil?
“‘My husband! forgive me if I say, that I deeply and sadly feel that
my Womanhood has been robbed of its most precious charm, for _your_
sake, through a weak indulgence and subjection to that in you which is
lower than the spiritual. My body has been painfully desecrated,
perhaps not more by your act than mine. You suffer the loss of that
refining and ennobling influence which only an _undefiled_ woman can
impart to man.
“‘In view of our past, words cannot express my remorse and
self-condemnation; but believe me, the bitterest suffering is caused
to me by the knowledge that through this sin and misery, I am rendered
incapable of becoming to you a tithe of what I desire to be. How can
you do otherwise than shrink from the wreck I am fast becoming? And
though I may feel, in my moments of anguish and remorse, that _you_
are as much the cause of my mental and physical wreck and imbecility
as I am, God grant I may not unjustly murmur or accuse you!
“‘It is said, “Men never love complaining women.” Alas! if they
treated their wives with half the respect and tender consideration
they do other women, there would be less ground for complaint. I am
convinced, _that in proportion as woman yields to the demands of
animal passion in her husband, in that same ratio he loses his love
and respect for her_. By bitter and humiliating experience, this
conviction is forced upon me.
“‘My husband! I love you. The power lies in you to bless and save me;
the power lies in me to bless and save you; but have we not cursed
each other instead? I cry unto you for life,—will you give me death? I
would make my Womanhood a crown of glory to your life, your Manhood to
mine. Shall we allow the very life-essence of our being to be
exhausted in sensual indulgence, till we lose the power to feel and
appreciate a pure spiritual love? My heart is reaching out to you for
life, at the same time that my body is suffering untold agonies from
the outrages perpetrated on my nature to escape the anguish and horror
of an unwelcome maternity; outrages which have polluted and humbled my
soul, and nearly destroyed my body—all for your sake; that I might
retain your love and respect.
“‘I would rather lay down my life now, than live without your love.
Can we not love purely and nobly, without prostituting that love in
mere sensual indulgence? My soul would arise and go to you as an
inspiration from God; but I am suffering, and a realization of my
present condition, my physical diseases, and mental anguish, and the
knowledge that it was all caused by having maternity put upon me when
I was not prepared joyfully to meet its trials and responsibilities,
and the consciousness of the terrible outrage that I have been driven
to perpetrate on myself and your unborn children, harden my soul, and
lower me in my own opinion, so that I do now feel, and shall yet more
deeply feel, if this function is still to be imposed upon me, that I
am unworthy to appear in society. But for the consciousness that your
passion has been, unconsciously and ignorantly, it may be, the primary
cause of my misery and conscious degradation, I should scarcely dare
to claim the right any more to rest in your bosom as your wife. We
have both erred.
“‘You love my person; you worship the _animal_ in me. If you love not
my mind, my heart and soul more, and feel not more reverence and
worship for the God in me than for the animal, if I am unworthy and
unable to meet the wants of your intellectual and spiritual nature,
PERISH ALL OUTWARD BONDS! Tell me, have I no power to hold you by any
bonds but the sensualistic? Has my soul no power over you? If this be
so, let me no longer seek to hold you at all. It crushes me, and
overwhelms me with conscious degradation, to feel that I have no power
over your intellectual and moral nature; that you come to me, caress
me, and call me WIFE, only that I may administer to your sensual
pleasure, and that you have no fond regard and loving adoration for
me, except for my mere outward, physical womanhood. I cannot live so,
feeling that your presence and caresses are ever to be but a prelude
to the surrender of my person to your animal passion.
“‘I know I have powers of soul, which, if suffered to be developed,
without this horrible crucifixion, might bless you. I will not yet
believe you will turn a deaf ear to this appeal of your wife, who, as
you know, has had, and can have, no life apart from you. I pray, with
tears, that you will spare me from a maternity which my soul
repudiates, and whose sufferings I cannot endure. You will not deny me
this privilege, which, more than anything else, I ask of you.