his elder daughter, Graceâs sister, and her baby from the home. In her old age, however, Grace is fated to witness the repetition of herself and her father in this melodramatic scene, the shock of which strikes her with palsy so that âshe was carried to her bed that night never to rise againâ. Thus in this story the daughter and the father conspire together to ruin the lives of an unhappy mother and her daughter.
Gaskell again describes the woman who turns against another in complicity with an inflexibly self-righteous father in âLois the Witchâ. Loisâs father, a Barford minister, refuses to come to the aid of a woman who is being stoned and drowned for a witch; in response the witch turns her curse on Lois, rather than the father, crying, âParsonâs wench, parsonâs wench, yonder, in thy nurseâs arms, thy dad hath never tried for to save me, and none shall save thee when thou art brought up for a witch.â Lois goes on to tell her New England audience, âI used to dream that I was in that pond, all men hating me with their eyes because I was a witch.â The womanâs curse comes true and Lois must be punished for the sin of her father in an uncanny doubling of womenâs fates.
Perhaps the text which is most overtly devoted to the representation of womenâs investment in the domestic sphere and the pull of the id="page_xxiv" maternal bond is âThe Poor Clareâ. In a letter dated 2 January 1856, Charles Dickens impatiently beseeched Elizabeth Gaskell to end her delay and complete her manuscript so he could publish the conclusion in
Household Words:
âI have been going on, hoping to see the end of the story you could not finish (which was not your fault or anybodyâs) in time for Christmas. When will it be forthcoming, I wonder! You have not deserted it. You cannot be such an unnatural mother.â 30 Dickensâs jocular reference to Gaskell as the âunnatural motherâ could not be more ironically apposite in the context of âThe Poor Clareâ, for this is a story, like so many of Gaskellâs works, about surrogate, non-biological mothers, frequently servants, who are somehow more ânaturalâ parents than the upper-class biological fathers. 31 âThe Poor Clareâ pits the nurturing, protective and self-sacrificing love of the servant Bridget Fitzgerald for her granddaughter Lucy against the cruel and selfish neglect of Lucyâs father, Squire Gisborne, who rejects his daughter once her âdemonicâ personality â which he has indirectly âsiredâ into being â begins to assert itself.
Bridgetâs love for Lucy is echoed by Mrs Clarke, Lucyâs âofficialâ guardian, who seeks to protect her tormented charge from malicious outsiders. In this sense Mrs Clarke is strikingly similar to Hester in âThe Old Nurseâs Storyâ, whose enfolding arms shield the child Rosamund from her ghostly seducer, the little dead girl who is beckoning to Rosamund to join her outside in the snow. Similarly, Amante in âThe Grey Womanâ takes charge as surrogate mother, husband and, most intriguingly, lover, as her name suggests, when the suicidally docile Anna is too weak to take control over her own life. It is Amante, the ladyâs maid, who devises the scheme by which Anna and she can escape Annaâs murderous husband, by posing as wife and husband. Anna is pregnant, and is therefore unable to pass as a man; it is Amante who enacts the role of Annaâs male guide, and thus it is the female servant in male disguise who outwits the dangerously frustrated wealthy bandit, and who acts as adoptive âfatherâ as well as mother to Annaâs newly born child. It seems therefore appropriate that Gaskell, who once wrote under a manâs name, and can so convincingly impersonate a male narrative voice, should write about a female servant acting as a man in