The sound of silence
Returning to Victorian times in the contraption made famous in the 1895 novella by HG Wells, The Time Machine, the 21st century observer would notice many differences between modern-day life and yesteryear: ladies of all social classes in glorious hats; no self-service; a most excellent railway system and reliable post (delivering up to five times daily – not five times a week now if you are lucky).
Returning to Victorian times in the contraption made famous in the 1895 novella by HG Wells, The Time Machine, the 21st century observer would notice many differences between modern-day life and yesteryear: ladies of all social classes in glorious hats; no self-service; a most excellent railway system and reliable post (delivering up to five times daily '“ not five times a week now if you are lucky).
But the streets would be full of horse manure and ragged children begging. Premature death lingering on every corner in disease-ridden stinking towns, and, behind the doors of Victorian respectability, a life of domestic purgatory for some married women under a legal system that allowed them to be beaten by their husbands.
There was no escape as Victorian divorce laws were hypocritical. For example, under section 27 of the Matrimonial Causes Act 1857, husbands could easily obtain a divorce on the grounds of simple adultery, whereas a wife could so proceed only if she could make out a case of 'incestuous adultery, or of bigamy with adultery, or of rape, or of sodomy or bestiality, or of adultery coupled with desertion'¦' against her husband.
The Victorian married woman had no legal status whatsoever '“ she was merely a shadow of her husband and no protection was afforded to her under the laws of libel. Before the passing of the Married Women's Property Act 1882, a married woman did not have capacity to enter into a contract as a feme sole. The common law doctrine of coverture held that all property of a married woman, whether earned or inherited, legally belonged to her spouse and so did her children.
Custody campaign
The granddaughter of Sheridon, Caroline Norton, campaigned to bring about a change in the law relating to the custody of infants. She married the Honourable (though not an apt description of the man) Richard Norton at the age of 19. Theirs was an unhappy marriage and she was frequently beaten.
On one occasion, she fled the house to stay with her sister, leaving Norton the opportunity to lawfully take custody of the children.
Caroline petitioned the young Queen who did not appear to have any appetite for women's lib and replied angrily, 'this mad wicked folly of women's rights'¦ God created men and women different '“ let them remain each in their own position'.
Not disheartened by this apathy, Caroline found the support of a kindly lawyer, the then MP for Reading Mr Talford, who eventually passed the Infants' Custody Act 1839. The Act, one page long and containing five clauses in total, simply allowed judges in equity to make an order for access of mothers to their infant children in the custody of the father, 'subject to such regulations as he [the judge] shall deem convenient'. Under section 1, the court could allow a mother full custody of children under the age of seven years. However, no access or custody could be granted to an adulteress pursuant to section 4.
The case of Handley v Handley [1891] proves that even towards the end of Victoria's reign a woman divorced for adultery would not, as a general rule, be allowed access to her children. Thus, married women suffered in silence until the law of guardianship was equalised by the Infants' Custody Act 1925.