{"id":12364,"date":"2012-09-24T12:32:34","date_gmt":"2012-09-24T11:32:34","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.badreputation.org.uk\/?p=12364"},"modified":"2012-09-25T11:08:52","modified_gmt":"2012-09-25T10:08:52","slug":"found-feminism-jael-boscawen-1647-1730","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/badreputation.org.uk\/2012\/09\/24\/found-feminism-jael-boscawen-1647-1730\/","title":{"rendered":"Found Feminism: Jael Boscawen (1647-1730)"},"content":{"rendered":"

This isn’t ghoulish, I promise you. Although it does involve graveyards. In a cool, feminist way though, right? <\/p>\n

This plaque is in St Mary Abbots Parish Church<\/a> in Kensington, and is a slice of history I thought worth sharing.<\/p>\n

\"A<\/a>

An epic tale. Set in stone.<\/p><\/div>\n

Let me introduce you to someone I didn’t know existed until a couple of weeks ago. Jael Boscawen. She was born Jael Godolphin in 1647, a revolutionary year in which King Charles I was captured by Cromwell,\u00a0 the Levellers<\/a> published their manifesto and the New Model Army<\/a> marched on London.<\/p>\n

Challenging times. And a challenging lady, it seems.<\/p>\n

Before we get down to details, the case for the defence.<\/p>\n

Why is a bit of stone in a church and a woman long dead a relevant Found Feminism?<\/p>\n

Well, it’s about history and culture.\u00a0We know that there has been a problem with women in history – as in, there often don’t seem to be as good, or rich, or as many records for the ladies of the house as the menfolk. Despite it being almost certain that there were as many women in the past as men. There’s an underlying collective shoulder shrug of “well, that’s because women generally didn’t really ever do anything of any note.”\u00a0 With the snide sidenote of “and generally never will”.<\/p>\n

Which is sexism at its most toxic, and history at its most lazy.<\/p>\n

When we do find written documentation about women like this one, it’s even more important and valuable to dive into it. Seeking out these women and their history<\/a> is part of the feminist project. Writing the history of women<\/a>, and telling it<\/a>, is part of that project too. The more women we can find from the past, the more confident we will be at reminding ourselves that being a woman does not confine you to being a helpmeet. Then or now.<\/p>\n

This is especially true when the women are not quite what we might expect. And such is the case of Jael Godolphin.<\/p>\n

What struck me about this plaque in particular is that it seems to be the only record I can find of her. She’s a mystery. A quick Google of her name doesn’t reveal an awful lot<\/a>. She doesn’t have a Wikipedia page<\/a>. Her life, as far as we savvy internet creatures are concerned, was no life at all. She was born, she married, she had children, she died. The same bland story of so many women in the past, it seems.<\/p>\n

Finding a history written in stone is significant because it indicates how important she must have been (this kind of dedication, with its prominent place by the church door, would not have been cheap). But more significant,\u00a0 perhaps, is how she is described. The stereotypical view of a “good” woman from this time period would have her as a dutiful wife, daughter, mother, etc.<\/p>\n

Not so with Jael Godolphin. The words written about her are about, well… her.<\/em><\/p>\n

She was adorned with rare faculties of the mind, singular acuteness, sagacity and judgement, with a generous heart.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Let’s be clear. There’s no prattle about how meek, mild and akin to the Virgin Mary she was. No, this woman from the 17th century is immortalised in an expensive chunk of stone, by people who loved and respected her for her mind. Her brain. Her ability to make decisions. To make good decisions, certainly – she had a kind heart, but the brain came first. Exactly the sort of text you might expect to see on the grave of a (male) patron.<\/p>\n

Now this is the bit where it gets even better.<\/p>\n

Confessedly the ornament and at the same time the tacit reproach of a wicked Age.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Not only was she smart, she was also complicated. I would add her to a fantasy dinner table guest list in a heartbeat, if only to be able to unpick that sentence. What does it mean? In my head she is an Elizabeth I figure, who used the perceptions of her gender to her advantage, self-aware and very canny. But all I have are these words. Not even a picture. However, given all the problems with women and images, perhaps these words are better?<\/p>\n

I’m going to end on a shoutout for events such as National Women’s History Month<\/a> and resource gathering projects such as Wikipedia’s Women’s History<\/a>. This post was done with love, but not a lot of technical know-how on the whole history front. I stopped doing the subject at 14 when it became clear I was not getting much out of endless, collective-guilt-inducing rehashes of the bombing of Dresden. <\/p>\n

If there are any historians out there inspired by this and better at research than me, I’d love to know more about her.<\/p>\n