by Alex. Kane

Almost the only career open to middle class women in the latter half of the nineteenth century was that of governess. In a usually overcrowded market she was shockingly underpaid and mostly over-worked. No-one envied the life of the governess, caught between classes in a rigidly class structured society. Too low for the family, too high for the servants, she was isolated, yet had no privacy and was almost universally despised. She worked all day, often sharing her bedroom with the children and taking care of their baths, meals and lessons—yet discouraged from being overly-affectionate with them.

For lack of an alternative job many women took the work, without any interest in the teaching and sometimes with a dislike of the children. Wages ranged from £10 to £50 a year, plus room and board. Although that was well above what women earned as factory workers, it was less than men earned as tutors, teachers and clerks. And when her services were no longer required, she was out of work, out of home and almost always worn out.

“She was plainly but neatly dressed, with a bright, quick face, freckled like a plover’s egg, and with the brisk manner of a woman who has made her own way in the world.” (Copp. 318) Since Violet Hunter makes no reference to her family it seems likely that she is an only child who came to governessing as a result of the death of a parent. In the latter half of the nineteenth century the single most likely circumstance in which a middleclass girl found herself facing potential destitution was following the death of her father.

Even those men who occupied the most prestigious posts during their lifetime could not necessarily expect a pension for their dependents after their death. In 1848 the Governesses’ Benevolent Institution noted the case of: “Miss.Mary Ann G, Father, Principal of the Interior Office, Bank of England; his income ceased with his life and she became a governess.” Well into the 1890s the Institution was reporting many similar cases.

The practice of insuring one’s life, which became commonplace in the final few years of the century, was not widespread during the earlier period. Social commentators were in broad agreement that if only more fathers could be persuaded to take out life insurance, “it would be the brightest event in the history of the governess class.” Yet even those men who did make an effort to provide for their daughters could find themselves victims of economic circumstances beyond their control. Fraud was rife before and for a number of years after the 1870 Life Assurance Companies Act.

So, while not knowing the cause of her parent’s death, or her father’s occupation, we do know that Miss Hunter found herself in a position of being “…a woman who had her won way to make in the world.” She had no home, no family, few expectations and very little in the way of savings. That she was middleclass was evident from the fact that she was willing to turn to governessing and that she had been a governess for five years “in the family of Colonel Spence Munro.” (Copp. 318)

“My accomplishments, Sir, may be less than you imagine…a little French, a little German, music and drawing.” (Copp. 319) For most of the nineteenth century the majority of British girls had little or no formal schooling, and what they managed to get was rarely of an intellectual kind. Girls, at every level of society, were educationally deprived compared to boys of their own class. There was no state supported system of free schools until the 1880s and parents were willing to pay more for the private schooling of their sons than for their daughters.

Girls from the middle and upper classes were left to the educational care of governesses and private tutors, with “too much stress on dancing, playing the piano and studying French and Italian.” As late as 1912 Lady Mary Harcourt was able to write, “the other girls are full of dancing, elocution, fencing, drawing, German, singing and skating. So education is in full swing.”

In the 1850s and 1860s new types of private day and boarding schools grew and flourished in response to changing social and economic needs, offering a commitment to academic achievement and meritocratic values. These new schools catered for a very small number of middleclass girls, many of whom went into teaching careers. It seems unlikely, given the limit of her accomplishments, that Miss Hunter attended one of these schools. This may have been because of financial restraints or it may just have been the case that her parents didn’t believe it was necessary to educate her. As, so I believe her to be, an only daughter, they would have expected to make a reasonable marriage for her. But somewhere along the way this plan went awry and Miss Hunter was left to fend for herself. And yet, despite these limited accomplishments, she was to become “the head of a private school in Walsall.” (Copp. 332)

The Governesses’ Benevolent Institution had established Queen’s College in 1847 with the purpose of raising the academic standards of the governess and providing her with a means of proving those standards, so that no employer would be “under the necessity of taking a governess without knowing whether she really has the proficiency which she assumes to have.” Certificates were awarded either for a single subject or a Certificate of Proficiency if she offered three or more. They were awarded after a series of lectures from university academics and after examinations with a pass level set at 66%.

Miss Hunter had clearly earned Holmes’ admiration and proved herself a “quite exceptional woman.” (Copp. 329) She was obviously intelligent and resourceful. I have no doubt that she realised that if she was to progress and avoid future employers like Mr. Rucastle she would have to extend her range of accomplishments. The Queen’s College courses would have been the first step and this may have decided her upon a career in more formal teaching rather than merely governessing.

“I advertised and I answered advertisements, but without success…There is a well known agency for governesses in the West End.” (Copp. 318) Since the vast majority came from the middle-classes they usually tried to exploit connections within their families and friends to find themselves a position. It was only once all these unofficial networks had been exhausted that the would-be governess was left with no choice but to launch herself on the official marketplace.

The cheapest way was simply to pin up a card in a library or stationers. As a final resort advertisements would be inserted in local or national newspapers, or into one of the many religious periodicals which flourished at the end of the nineteenth century. This was a very expensive business, particularly for someone like Miss Hunter, who had limited resources and “two or three bills upon the table.” (Copp. 320)

In the 1890 periodical Work and Leisure, advice was offered to governesses who were answering advertisements. She was advised to give the profession of both her father and her maternal grandfather, along with the details of her education. She was also asked to detail the circumstances which obliged her to look for work. It is possible that Miss Hunter’s limited accomplishments and her family background may not have made her an attractive candidate, on paper at least.

I’m a little surprised that Miss Hunter did not make use of the GBI registry located in Harley Street. Its services were free to both governess and employer and any governess who could produce two satisfactory letters of reference (only one of which had to be from a previous employer) could enter her details into a ledger that was open to prospective employers. She, in turn, had access to a ledger which had details of employers in search of a governess. The registry itself was the meeting place of prospective employers and employees and arrangements could be made for interviews with those who had come to London with the express purpose of consulting the ledgers.

The fact that she used an agency like Westaways, which made money from both parties, suggests that there was something in her family background which she knew would limit her appeal to a certain class of employer. While the GBI registry was recognised as THE registry for employer and governess alike, an agency catered for clients like Rucastle. Many of these agencies were unscrupulous and some owners were prosecuted for defrauding women “by pretending to obtain them situations.”

Miss Hunter was, in many ways, a remarkable young lady. She was both astute and brave. She proved herself capable of standing upon her own two feet when fate had robbed her of home and family. She was shrewd enough to contact Holmes when an offer of employment looked too good to be true. And rather than allow herself to be beaten by the setback at the Copper Beeches, she seems to have used it as a launching pad towards a new career in teaching and private schooling. Hardly surprising, then, that Watson expresses his disappointment when Holmes “manifested no further interest in her.” (Copp. 332)

‘Miss Violet Hunter’ originally appeared in The Log, the Crew’s annual journal, Issue No.2, November 2008.

Sherlock Holmes quotations appearing in articles on this site are, unless otherwise noted, taken from The Penguin Complete Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (same as the Doubleday edition). Any page references, unless otherwise noted, also refer to this edition.  Story codes, where used, are the Christ codes (pronounced like ‘wrist’), created by Sherlockian Jay Finley Christ.

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