What I've Learned in 2024, Part I

And a beautiful moment of herstorical consciousness.

Hello to you, dearest reader.

As we prepare to say goodbye to 2024, I wanted to share with you a round-up of some of the best stuff I’ve learned in women’s history this year.

Let’s start with a biggie. As I mentioned a little while ago, I’m in the final stage of a divorce, and it is impossible for me to sum up the gratitude I feel to a British woman called Caroline Norton. Most of the rights that I have during this process are thanks to the campaigning that she did, and I want to share a little bit of her story with you today because she rarely gets the props she deserves.

Caroline was born in 1808 in London. By the time she was 21, she had already written two novels (The Sorrows of Rosalie and The Undying One) that were immensely popular, leading her to be nicknamed the female Byron. High praise indeed. It was also around this time that she married a guy called George Norton, who was a barrister and MP, and had three children. George’s behaviour to Caroline was abusive and coercive. George was also a terrible barrister and made no money, which caused considerable tension between the pair. She left him in 1835.

An oil painting of Caroline from 1832.

Caroline was able to support herself through writing, but she did not have access to her three children. At that time, children were the legal property of their father, so there was nothing Caroline could do to force George to let her see them. Out of spite, George sent the children to various relatives in Scotland and Yorkshire and refused to tell Caroline where they were.

In 1836, the couple’s relationship took a very public turn when George accused Caroline of having an affair with … wait for it … Lord Melbourne, the Prime Minister. You can imagine the scandal caused by such an accusation. Both parties denied any extra-marital activities, though they were good friends. George then took Lord Melbourne (the actual Prime Minister OMG) to court for seducing his wife. Although his action was unsuccessful, George’s claims absolutely scandalised both the government and Caroline’s reputation.

Caroline responded by doing what she did best: she picked up her pen. She wrote to anyone and everyone she could think of. Her efforts led to the passing of the Infant Custody Bill (1839) which gave mothers the right to petition the court for custody of children under the age of 7.

In 1855, George faced off with Caroline in the courtroom again. This time, he not only refused to pay her any allowance but also demanded her earnings from writing. Caroline picked her up her pen once more. She even wrote to Queen Victoria. Her situation was instrumental in the passing of the Matrimonial Causes Act of 1857, which gave women the right to seek a divorce on the grounds of adultery, cruelty or desertion. This was not on terms of equality with men, but it was progress.

In 1870, a team effort between Caroline and another Victorian icon, Barbara Bodichon, contributed to the passing of the Married Women’s Property Act of 1870. This was a real landmark moment for women because it gave them the right to keep their earnings and to inherit property.

During all of this, Caroline continued to write novels and publish poetry. Many focused on social themes, especially child welfare.

There’s much, much more we could say about Caroline but let me leave you with a quote from her political pamphlet, English Laws for Women in the Nineteenth Century (1854):

“I know all that can be said on my interference with such a subject; all the prejudice and contempt with which men will receive arguments from a woman, and a woman personally interested. But it is of more importance that the law should be altered, than that I should be approved. Many a woman may live to thank Heaven that I had courage and energy left, to attempt the task (of changing the laws).”

And I do, Caroline, I thank the Heaven that you did.

Until next time,

Kaye x