Catharine Maria Sedgwick’s novel, Hope Leslie, or Early Times in the Massachusetts, is an extraordinary rendering of the relationships that existed between men and women in early New-England Puritan society. Feminine and masculine gender stereotypes, both positive and negative, are exhibited in the text by Sedgwick’s characters to point out the “proper” and “improper” methods of conducting oneself in Puritan society. These stereotypes are then contradicted by Hope Leslie, the novel’s main protagonist, and Sir Philip Gardiner, the novel’s central antagonist; their actions provide proof that gender stereotypes are not limited to solely men or women, and may and do alter conventional perceptions of traditional gender roles and patriarchal social standards. Through textual references to behavior, individual actions, and dialogue, the characters of Hope Leslie and Sir Philip Gardiner provide striking evidence that the traditional virtues of men and traditional vices of women cross gender lines, and furthermore reveal a distinct difference between conventional gender stereotypes and true individual actions.
To begin, Hope Leslie is repeatedly referred to throughout the novel as being radically different from those “modern belle[s]” of the 17th century, allowing herself to act beyond the normal social constraints of Puritan society and pursue a freer and more adventurous behavior (Sedgwick 126). Her conduct, in return, is constantly called into question by her superiors; included in this group is Sir Philip Gardiner, who, though he is no superior in government, represents the masculine superiority which constantly hovers over Hope and the other women in the novel. The first instance in which the reader is intimately introduced to Hope is through her letter from herself to Everell Fletcher, who “presently [resides] in England” (Fetterley; Sedgwick 99). In her narration of the events at Bethel, Hope relates to Everell that her aunt Grafton expressed much displeasure with her intent to go hiking, saying that Hope’s venture into the wilderness was improper “for a young person, like me, to go out exploring a new country” (102). Dame Grafton’s disapproval of Hope’s intentions punctuate the uncommon desires of a young Puritan girl who is expected, if not required, to adhere to the strict Puritan moral code of remaining steadfastly “pious, modest, submissive, and invisible to the public eye” (Garvey). In Hope’s reply, she “urged, that our new country develops faculties that young ladies, in England, were unconscious of possessing” (Sedgwick 102). By providing this excuse for joining her male elders, Hope expresses her desire for education and knowledge of the world around her (Fetterley). In addition, her intention to venture into nature mirrors a desire to enter into a larger field of participation; by leaving the confines of her home, and then her own society, she is entering not only into a more public sphere, but a world sphere, while “yearning for social and natural unity” (Singley). Typically, men from this era are given freedom to explore and act upon these desires because they are thought to possess the skills to do so. However, Sedgwick invites the reader to consider the possibility that a woman, who is confined within a society that does not invite her to explore her surroundings, may do so, and furthermore, may enjoy doing it (Garvey). References to Hope’s social irregularity are further alluded to by Dame Grafton in her own letter to Everell when she says, “Hope, I am sorry to say, is as obstinate as ever” (Sedgwick 120). Hope’s obstinacy is rather a determination to break away from socially constructed stereotypes which have been imposed upon her by men. Governor Winthrop is equally adverse to Hope’s free spirit, asserting that she “hath not…that passiveness, that, next to godliness, [that] is a woman’s best virtue” under the dictations of Puritan culture (160). Hope, rather than submitting to the wishes of her superiors, “follows the dictates of her heart rather than the dictates of her elders” (Bell 221). Willful determination and stubbornness, often attributed to intelligent or ambitious men, is a rare sight in Dame Grafton’s mind, and in order to maintain the social norm, Grafton and Winthrop discourage this nature.
Other instances continually arise in which Hope’s behavior is shown as deviating from traditional feminine social norms. The traditional masculine qualities of courage and progressive thinking appear in Hope’s actions when they are alluded to by the omniscient narrator. Chief among these occasions are those wherein Hope is described as supportive of parties whose character is called into question. When Nelema is jailed as a witch for using herbal remedies on Cradock to cure him of a snake bite, Hope fervently “declare[s] her belief in Nelema’s innocence”, and is “inspired with a sudden resolution to set her free” when she spies the key the Nelema’s cell door lying conveniently nearby (Sedgwick 123-124). In professing her belief in Nelema’s innocence and simply considering the possibility of breaking her friend out of prison, Hope is in danger of being labeled a sympathizer; her virtue as a Puritan woman and trustworthiness as an individual would be brought into question by, first, the reader, and second, by the administers of justice should they discover her plot (Fetterley). However, her belief in true justice is defended to the reader by the sympathetic narrator: “Hope Leslie took counsel only from her own heart…the rights of innocence were paramount to all other rights” (Sedgwick 124). This thought is also linked with Hope’s forward-thinking personality, which is “superior to some of the prejudices of the day” (127). Without these social limits on her mind, Hope is further able to enjoy “the capacities of her nature, and [permit] her mind to expand beyond the contracted boundaries of sectarian faith” (128). Hope’s progressive way of thinking is characteristic of educated men of the 17th century, though there were few of the middle class who were privileged with such an advantage. Although most American gentlemen were not of the mindset that equality was meant for all people, men who had attended an institution of higher learning were more apt to consider the possibility of equality for all than those who had not entered a college or university. Through associating these masculine attributes with Hope, Sedgwick further invites her readers to consider that thoughts, typically associated with men, may also be found within the minds of women who see justice as belonging to the race of humans rather than the race of white men.
Another feature of Hope Leslie’s deviation from strict Puritan society lies in her overt actions, which are related to the reader through Hope’s words in her retelling of events, or through frank narration. Hope eagerly tells Everell in her letter that each member of the hiking party “reached the summit, without scathe to life or limb,” including Hope herself (103). This instance is an example in which Hope performs in a masculine way; she scales a mountain, which presents a highly un-feminine image. The action of climbing a mountain requires intense physical labor, endurance, and tremendous willpower; all three qualities function within a realm of traditional male physicality. Additionally, man’s conquering of a land structure usually parallels with his conquering of a female subject since the earth is predominantly referred to as “Mother Earth.” The image of Hope, a woman, instead presents a different view of mankind’s attempt to scale a mountain; she is representative of a daughter of the earth, endeavoring to become one with nature and the world around her.
Furthermore, the actions of freeing Nelema and Magawisca from jail provide Hope with the traditionally masculine trait of moral authority. Hope tells Magawisca, “I have come to release you,” and does so very craftily by disguising Cradock in a blanket and Magawisca in Cradock’s clothing, and then ushering Magawisca out very carefully so as to avoid the light of Barnaby’s lantern (326). Hope’s belief that Nelema and Magawisca are innocent and good stems from her deeply rooted belief that these women had genuinely done nothing wrong; since the male community has failed to see these captive women as innocent, Hope is forced to “intervene on behalf of the innocent” (Garvey). With this belief, Hope adopts a moral superiority over her male friends and social superiors who believe that they possess the ultimate moral superiority (Emerson). By doing this, Hope elevates herself to the level of Winthrop, William Fletcher, Cradock, Barnaby, and Sir Philip Gardiner, each one a male superior, and develops a stance of fearlessness along with moral dominance. Hope’s fearlessness is also addressed in her choice to risk her life even when she cannot anticipate impending dangers. After the meeting with Faith Leslie has been sabotaged by Sir Philip and his men, Hope is carried away by Oneco, and once they reach the shore of an island, Hope “forget[ting] her fear and danger in the sublimity of the storm…bound[s] away” into the night (Sedgwick 248-249). She is unaware of the impending danger that awaits her, but willing to brave whatever peril is presented to her, Hope willingly runs away. This action, although seemingly irrational, is the most rational thing Hope can do at that moment to avoid physical captivity, motivated by rational thought and affective feelings of fearlessness, she flees (Emerson). Her encounter with a group of malicious-minded sailors is her reward, but as she escapes from these men, she stumbles upon Antonio, the drunken sailor who thinks she is a saint. This new situation could also have ended poorly, but through quick thinking, Hope escapes detection of her actual persona. The quality of fearlessness is often common in brave male soldiers, strong fathers or brothers, or men who rank high in political office; however, it is not common among young Puritan women who, after being kidnapped, run blindly into a forest. The quality of fearlessness must also be accompanied by some degree of confidence in social ability and physical strength, for if the former fails in protecting the safety of one’s person, the latter must be implemented to avoid capture, injury, or death.
Finally, Hope’s words, whether written in epistle form or spoken aloud, serve to present the protagonist as an independent woman, capable of speaking for herself. Hope relates to Everell that she refused to be “plucked up and cast away” and insists “she [will] not go” to Boston (Sedgwick 118). Her defiance of William Fletcher, along with being unusually petulant, is also a vehicle through which her desire for personal independence is carried. During this period, independence is usually a freedom only given to men; since women possessed virtually no rights and were seen as property, they were treated as such and moved at the convenience of the man they were dependent upon (Fetterley). Michael Bell offers that though Hope is willful, the reader should see her as independently motivated instead of selfish (Bell 221). By denying Fletcher’s suggestions that she should be removed to Boston, Hope violates the traditional “boundaries of her place as a Puritan” woman, and openly admits that she wishes to own herself as an individual, and that her quest for individuality ultimately begins in frankly dictating that she has control over her own whereabouts (Garvey).
In contrast to Hope Leslie’s possession of positive masculine qualities, Sir Philip Gardiner’s possession of traditionally negative feminine qualities also begins with allusions provided by the omniscient narrator. In Gardiner’s first major description of his character, “he looked much like a dainty Quaker”; in this sentence, focus is centered on the verb “looked” (Sedgwick 129). Throughout the second half of the novel, Gardiner’s appearance is repeatedly called into question by the narrator and other characters in the story. Jennet calls him a “godly appearing man”; the narrator mentions that “he [has] nothing of the puritan but the outside” and that “he [plays] the gallant magician with two faces” (146, 175, 275). These references are intermittently dispersed to remind the reader that Gardiner is not what he seems to be, and is in fact something else entirely. The quality of being “two-faced” is predominantly associated with women, who have been portrayed as gossips, back-stabbers, and manipulators both historically and in literature (Kalayjian 64). This notion could come from the fact that, because women were not permitted to fully enter the public sphere until the middle of the 20th century, their time was occupied by activities such as quilting bees and luncheons where conversation would inevitably return to the people who participated in such events.
Additionally, Gardiner is portrayed as rash and irresponsible. While in court, Gardiner realizes that his “fool-hardiness, which he had rushed unnecessarily and unwittingly” has exposed him to public scrutiny (Sedgwick 300); he becomes “entangled in the meshes of his own weaving” through constantly lying about the particulars concerning his observance of the meeting between Hope Leslie and Magawisca (333). His plot to capture Hope Leslie is fueled by lust, vengeance, and greed, qualities which are commonly associated with older, irresponsible femme fatales who court and wed men for their money. These women are also portrayed as fickle, and usually betray their acquaintances due to some minor disagreement (Kalayjian 68). The same can easily be said for the rakish Gardiner, who abandons faithful Rosa to pursue Hope, and only returns to use Rosa’s complete trust in him to his own advantage.
Furthermore, Gardiner’s deliberate actions reflect dishonest and manipulative intentions. He follows Hope “at a prudent distance” when she ventures to meet with Magawisca and then “[enlists] against Magawisca…merely to advance his own private interests” (Sedgwick 259, 300). Though Gardiner’s actions are stated less frankly than descriptions of his character, his intentions are listed blatantly throughout the text, and his motive to undermine the court of Boston and the Fletcher and Winthrop families is clearly represented in “his bad mind” (312). His plot to capture the fleeing Magawisca and helpful Hope is even more disturbing when he plans on kidnapping Hope, forcing her to comply with his demands of marriage. Manipulation, a common negative action associated with ambitious, male-dependent women, is clearly a weakness of Gardiner, who desperately attempts to force his own advantageous means through manipulation of circumstances and people (Kalayjian 65).
Finally, Gardiner’s dialogue reflects a scheming personality that places blame on other individuals for his personal moral crimes. Before Gardiner meets Hope and Esther, he says that “women have cunning devices” with to change their appearance (Sedgwick 134). Ironically, Gardiner has, in fact, changed his own appearance to cunningly deceived members of the Boston government and the governor’s household. The very same actions which Gardiner seems to condemn and question are the same he uses to fool those around him; they therefore present him as a hypocrite, whose opinion is now invalid to the reader (Emerson). Later, as he drags the woman who he thinks is Hope into the recesses of the ship, he says to her, “Do not struggle thus…you have driven me to this violence. You must forgive the madness you have caused” (Sedgwick 341). Despite the fact that the woman being led away is Jennet, Gardiner’s message to her is clear: he marks the woman in his arms as the cause of his misery. In actuality, his misery has been caused by himself and his wretched actions against others. Labeling another individual as a scapegoat is highly popular among women who have fallen from grace, either socially or economically, and their misfortunes are placed (by them) on the person whom they have either depended or continually despised (Kalayjian 64). Gardiner’s situation runs parallel to that of the fallen, irresponsible woman, and eventually ends in Jennet’s, Rosa’s, and his own death.
The unusual predicaments surrounding Hope Leslie and her sister may provide a reason for breaking free of gender stereotypes, and why Sir Philip Gardiner has the motivation to commit acts of intrigue. Christopher Castiglia discusses the possibility that an “eccentric” story may pose the option to its female characters to act outside the normal gender constraints of their time (110). Hope Leslie belongs to a disordered family unit: her mother and father are deceased; her sister is missing; her only peer and childhood friend is across the Atlantic Ocean; and her best friend, Esther, is nothing like the free and unhindered protagonist. This disorder invites Hope to act irregularly in order to create stability; although she is surrounded by surrogate parents, she must provide inner strength and confidence for herself since her true emotional providers are absent, and by so doing, she is able to “ ‘flout’ plausible gender conventions” which stray outside the norm (Castiglia 110).
When placed within the larger context of captivity narratives, this historical captivity romance draws on the topic of captivity as how women and men operate within rigid ideals of any structured society. Captivity is not necessarily defined as physical confinement, and may therefore be used when stating that Hope and Sir Philip Gardiner are in captivity within the strict social conventions of Puritan society. Hope’s words, ideas, and actions are protested by her superiors because they are masculine in nature and do not “fit” typical feminine stereotypes; Gardiner’s actions, though condemned because of their outright immorality, are seen as feminine. Together, the positive masculine and negative feminine are instead positive and negative human traits; Sedgwick’s aim is to allow readers to experience both sides of the sexes and present humans rather than traditional, stereotypical men and women (Emerson). This becomes a common link in any captivity narrative where a woman is taken prisoner by a group larger than herself, whether it is being placed in physical captivity by the Narragansett or social captivity by her male brethren. In these situations, women come to stand as “complex models of democracy, adventure, mutuality, and sympathy” (Singley).
Sedgwick’s Hope Leslie carries an authoritative stance within the world of 17th century Massachusetts, and while the text displays various characters made of traditional Puritan values, Sedgwick makes a leap into the unconventional by inserting a female character who embodies positive masculine qualities, and a male character who exhibits negative feminine qualities. By providing textual references to character personality, revealing individual actions, and presenting clear dialogue to the reader, Sedgwick creates a discussion that challenges the traditional gender stereotypes of the hyper-courageous man and hyper-submissive woman. Hope Leslie provides a thoughtful discussion of gender constraints in both 17th century and modern-day America, and proposes an alternate view of how traditional gender stereotypes can and will be challenged by emerging exceptions to widely held beliefs.
Works Cited
Bell, Michael D. "History and Romance Convention in Catharine Sedgwick's "Hope Leslie"" American Quarterly 22.2 (1970): 213-21. JSTOR. Web. 28 Mar. 2011.
Castiglia, Christopher. "The Wilderness of Fiction: From Captivity Narrative to Captivity Romance." Bound and determined: captivity, culture-crossing, and white womanhood from Mary Rowlandson to Patty Hearst. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1996. 106-136. Print.
Emerson, Amanda. "History, memory, and the echoes of equivalence in Catharine Maria Sedgwick's Hope Leslie." Legacy: A Journal of American Women Writers 24.1 (2007). Literature Resource Center. Web. 28 Mar. 2011.
Fetterley, Judith. "'My Sister! My Sister!': The Rhetoric of Catherine Sedgwick's Hope Leslie." American Literature 70.3 (Sept. 1998): 491-516. Rpt. in Nineteenth-Century Literature Criticism. Ed. Juliet Byington and Thomas J. Schoenberg. Vol. 98. Detroit: Gale Group, 2001. Literature Resource Center. Web. 28 Mar. 2011.
Garvey, T. Gregory. "Risking Reprisal: Catharine Sedgwick's Hope Leslie and the Legitimation of Public Action by Women." American Transcendental Quarterly 8.4 (Dec. 1994): 287-298. Rpt. in Nineteenth-Century Literature Criticism. Ed. Juliet Byington and Thomas J. Schoenberg. Vol. 98. Detroit: Gale Group, 2001. Literature Resource Center. Web. 28 Mar. 2011.
Kalayjian, Patricia L. "Revisioning America's (Literary) Past: Sedgwick's "Hope Leslie"" NWSA Journal 8.3 (1996): 63-78. JSTOR. Web. 28 Mar. 2011.
Sedgwick, Catharine Maria. Hope Leslie, or, Early times in the Massachusetts. New York: Penguin Books, 1998. Print.
Singley, Carol J. "Catharine Maria Sedgwick's Hope Leslie: Radical Frontier Romance." Desert, Garden, Margin, Range: Literature on the American Frontier. Ed. Eric Heyne. Twayne Publishers, 1992. 110-122. Rpt. in Nineteenth-Century Literature Criticism. Ed. Juliet Byington and Thomas J. Schoenberg. Vol. 98. Detroit: Gale Group, 2001. Literature Resource Center. Web. 28 Mar. 2011.
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