“Particularly for a woman of your mind and intellect.”
Fanny’s offence died upon her lips. “
My
mind and intellect? I may live in a different social class than other women, but surely my intellect is average as a common sparrow.”
“Oh no,” Mr. Longfellow said softly, shaking his head. “You are a woman of far greater depth than most.”
The compliment left Fanny speechless. She certainly had never thought of herself as dull-witted, but neither had she felt she excelled in matters of scholastic pursuit. To hear someone else, especially someone she had grown to respect so much, say such a thing was rather exciting.
“To back up a few steps, however,” Mr. Longfellow said, finally breaking eye contact with her. “You said that your indulgence in educational pursuits is a luxury. But should not women have as much opportunity as men to expand their minds, and would that not expand their lives and influence just as it does for men?”
Fanny wanted to explore his comment regarding
her
mind, but did not want to appear arrogant. Or overly surprised. She focused on his last question and resumed her role as devil’s advocate. “Again I would ask, to what end should women’s minds be so expanded? Most women in the world shall be focused on the daily tasks of household maintenance for all of their lives. What need have they to read a travel book, for example, if they will never travel?”
“I would submit that every human would benefit from reading about the world, whether they will ever see it or not. Do we not believe that we have much to learn from history and scripture? What more could we learn from the history of other countries? And when I say ‘we,’ I mean our fellow Americans.
“If for no other cause than to remind us of how our founding principles differ from other nations, we should know how the world operates. Without such knowledge, we run great risk of future generations not understanding the distinction between America and the British government, for instance. If the American population had a greater percentage of educated minds, how might the influence and advancement of our culture increase? And for what reason should we base that advancement only on the male mind?
“England is educating more and more women all the time, and with a new queen taking the throne in coming years, I expect there will be even greater emphasis on equal opportunity between the sexes. America could do as much without a queen and truly put into place our ideals of allowing men and women to rise above circumstances of birth through effort.”
He paused to glance her way. “I shall agree that your situation is unique when compared to the countless women toiling day-to-day in America, but I see a great future ahead of us all if we will give women the equal chance to seek the potential of their minds as you have been able to—and allow minds such as yours to expand themselves even more through higher education. The future generations that would be benefited by educated women raising children is, in and of itself, impossible to measure.”
Fanny stared at him, only vaguely realizing that at some point they had stopped walking and stood facing one another on the sidewalk. She was shocked at his passion for this topic while also being invigorated by it. Not only did he see great potential in women, but he saw it specifically in
her.
“You do not agree with Mr. Jefferson that a woman lacks the mental ability to learn as men do?”
Mr. Longfellow chuckled and shook his head. “Not in the least. Do you feel that your mental ability is less than, for instance, Tom’s?”
She was silenced again.
Did
she agree that Tom was superior to her in intellect? He was more educated, having studied law at Harvard. But Mr. Longfellow knew that. He was not asking after formal education but mental ability. Having never considered such a thing made it impossible for Fanny to answer with only a moment’s notice.
She
was
reminded of some facts, however. Tom did not read as Fanny did, and they often had conversations regarding history and philosophy where she felt she could best him—despite that fact that her formal education had ended years earlier than his. Did that not speak to equal ability to learn?
Tom would never agree to such a thing—she was certain of that—nor any man of her acquaintance. Except, perhaps, Mr. Longfellow, who was watching her as though he could read her thoughts.
Before she could form an appropriate answer, Mr. Longfellow asked another question. “Might I ask you, Miss Fanny, who taught you to read?”
“I attended school,” Fanny said. “As any other girl of my station is able.”
“Yes, until the age of ten or twelve, I expect.” He raised his eyebrows expectantly.
Fanny nodded, slightly embarrassed since he obviously saw that as lacking, but she did not take offense. How could she when he was paying her, and her sex as a whole, such a compliment of potential?
“And before that, who taught you your letters? Who taught you to read those first words?”
“My mother,” Fanny said, feeling the warm prick of her heart that she always felt when she thought of her mother who had loved her family and spent so many years ill. Fanny had clear memories of lying beside Mama in bed and listening to her mother’s voice say the letters and sounds of a word then waiting for Fanny to repeat it. The memory was so vivid that she could smell the lavender of her mother’s perfume and feel the softness of the sheets and blankets tangled around her restless feet.
“As did mine,” Mr. Longfellow said with a nod. “I had schooling beginning when I was three years old, but it was on my mother’s lap that I was first read to, and it was to my mother’s ear that I first sounded out the words she wrote down on the slate for me to learn. My mother took the Protestant principles of educating one’s children quite seriously and was herself a well-read woman. I am not surprised that you learned from your mother just as I did mine because they both understood the power of ideas and the importance the written word. However, how could our mothers have taught us if they themselves had not been taught by their own mothers?”
He scarcely waited for a reply before moving forward, caught up in his excitement. “How many women right now are raising children in upper New York or in the wilds of the American frontier and are unable to teach their children to read and write? How can children of such mothers know enough to even hope for more opportunity than what their mothers have received? Boy or girl.”
“Not every occupation requires reading and writing,” Fanny said, engaged in the debate though she wasn’t truly trying to argue. “A farmer, for instance, or a blacksmith. The frontier is being harnessed by men and women who work with their hands, not with their minds.”
“Ah,” Mr. Longfellow said, raising his finger and pointing at the sky. “Does not everyone use their mind? Should not every man and woman be able to read the Bible, regardless of his or her occupation? Was that not Martin Luther’s very aim? I think of the understanding and insight I gained from reading
Paradise Lost
.”
Fanny nodded; they had indeed shared resounding discussions of Milton’s epic poem.
Mr. Longfellow continued, “Should not every man and woman be able to access such perspective so that they too might be edified regarding the formation of the world and humanity? Should not every man and woman be able to record their thoughts and impressions of the world in a journal for future generations to learn from? Should not every child be able to print their own name and read the printing of their parents?”
His eyes were nearly dancing, and Fanny found his energy rather intoxicating. “The frontier will always be the frontier—wild and without order—until lawyers and doctors and people of political minds join those farmers and blacksmiths in forming communities. There must be law and expectations of conduct. It will take education for such things to be enacted and understood for the good of us all.” He shook his head. “I must adamantly propose that all of society would improve if each member could read and write and learn for himself. Once such abilities are in place, the individuals can ponder on cultures and history, look for the pattern of things and plan so as to avoid the pitfalls that have caused such tragedies in the world.
“With basic education comes the ability to think, and a mind that thinks is a mind that improves upon itself. I would suggest that a farmer would be a better one if he could read the latest literature on soil and botany. I would say that a blacksmith will make a better kettle if he can read up on the science between the different metals he works in his forge. Everyone would have greater potential if they had the ability to learn—man or woman, black or white.”
Oh dear, is Mr. Longfellow an abolitionist?
Fanny’s father had been an advocate for the fair treatment of slaves during his time in Congress, and Fanny herself had opinions regarding the dark-skinned men and women upon whom much of America’s economy depended, but being an abolitionist was not a position to be taken lightly. Her father was a pioneer in the textile industry, which profited directly from the free labor of the cotton plantations in the south. Because of her family’s relationship to the institution she did not often let her mind follow the sympathies of her heart. She hoped Mr. Longfellow would be equally tactful around her father, but she did not know how to broach the subject.
“You are a very singular man,” Fanny finally said, smiling to let him know she did not mean it as an insult. “I have never heard such a vision. I am quite unsure what to make of it.”
He looked away as though embarrassed by his fiery speech. “Indeed my opinions are quite singular far too often. Forgive my preaching.”
“Not at all,” Fanny said as they resumed walking. “You have given me a great deal to think about. To be labeled a bluestocking is a fear of many young women who enjoy literature, you know. Your ideas would make bluestockings of my entire sex.”
“Using one’s mind should not come with a disparaging label,” Mr. Longfellow said. “Rather it should be something to be commended, something a woman should take pride in. A woman such as yourself is a shining example of the potential women have within our society. I feel our country would improve by leaps and bounds incomprehensible to our current expectations if we would give women the same opportunities now available to men and encourage them to see their value both individually and to our country as a whole.”
“And yet the beginning of this discussion was sparked by your disappointment in what men are currently offered in our American colleges.”
“I would say that at present a diploma from an American university is not much more than a reflection of a man’s status in society and a tribute to the discipline he showed in attending to his studies. While those studies certainly expand a man’s mind and vision, for the majority of those who graduate, the greatest benefit will be the connections they have made to other students.”
“Oh, but you
are
severe,” Fanny said, shaking her head at his candor. At the same time, she knew that the connections Tom had made while attending Harvard were the part of his education he valued most.
“I am honest,” Mr. Longfellow said, shrugging. “Having spent a great deal of time in classrooms—both as a student and a teacher—I can honestly attribute the majority of my learning to that which I have sought out on my own, much of it done at university campuses in Europe. I should very much like to bring greater opportunities to Harvard and structure teaching in a way that the students truly
learn
the subjects, not just recite lessons. I feel a great many women—like yourself—would benefit from such study. Perhaps they would even appreciate it more than some of these spoiled young men who simply see their collegiate years as a time of independence rather than edification.”
They reached the hotel where the Appletons were staying, and Mr. Longfellow hurried the last few steps to open the door for Fanny. She thanked him, feeling a bit shy as she passed him to enter the foyer. They walked in silence to the base of the stairs that led to the Appleton rooms.
“Thank you for such a fascinating discussion, Mr. Longfellow,” Fanny said as they began climbing the stairs side by side. She wanted to ask him what made him see her as above women in general but could not form the question in a way that she felt reflected the very intelligence he had spoken of.
Mr. Longfellow smiled, and she noted what a handsome man he was, especially when his features softened. He would have no difficulty in finding another wife if he chose to. The flash of envy and regret she felt took Fanny off guard. And worried her. Mr. Longfellow was too old for her and, besides, Fanny was devoted to her father. Without her mother to care for the household, it was Molly’s and Fanny’s responsibility.
Mr. Longfellow interrupted her thoughts. “Thank you for letting me bend your ear, Miss Fanny, and I hope I did not come across
too
strongly. I’m afraid that when I feel passion for something I am quite difficult to dissuade.”
For the second time, Fanny felt a twinge of envy for the possible future Mrs. Longfellow, but the topic of
this
jealousy caused her cheeks to heat up. It was one thing to admire the fact that he would treat his wife with equality, quite another to ponder on his passion for the woman. Had he felt such passion for his first wife, dead these long months? Did he miss her the way Father missed Mama? Did he cry for her when he felt no one was watching?
Fanny looked at the floor, rather horrified by her thoughts and the emotions they brought up in her chest, including jealously for the former and possible future Mrs. Longfellow. “It was of great interest to me, I assure you.”
They reached the top of the stairs, and she faced him, realized she didn’t know what to say, and moved forward again, staying one step ahead of him while her mind raced.
She felt as though a covering had been pulled away from something that few people were allowed to see. It was exciting, but unnerving, too. What would she do with all he had told her? How would it change her, and did she want to be changed?