“Meum et Tuum:” Mrs. Morgan, Millenium Hall, and Homosocial Intimacy in the Eighteenth-Century Upper Class
Norah Smith
What makes the idea of a utopia, a “perfect” world imagined by countless authors, so alluring? How have authors’ visions of utopias evolved? Furthermore, what do they reveal about their society? Take, for example, Sarah Scott’s 1762 utopian novel, A Description of Millenium Hall. Though originally published under a pseudonym, A Description of Millenium Hall later became known as arguably Scott’s most famous work. The epistolary travel novel follows George Ellison (who goes unnamed in the story) and his companion, the young and infamous rake Mr. Lamont, who end up stranded in the countryside after their chaise breaks down in the middle of their journey. When first introduced to the inhabitants of the manor, Ellison paints a glowing picture: “… In them we beheld rural simplicity, without any of those marks of or poverty and boorish rusticity, which would have spoilt the pastoral scene around us.” (Scott 57). Ellison describes it as a “fairy land,” and “an assured asylum against every evil” (58).
Upon entering the manor, the men realize Millenium Hall is inhabited primarily by women. The inhabitants, as Ellison explains, were of a simplistic yet sophisticated beauty: “The dress of the ladies was thus in uniform, the same neatness, the same cleanliness appeared in each… some of them were pretty, and none had any defect in person, to take off from that general pleasingness which attends youth and innocence” (61). Although there are a few men at the hall, they are primarily servants or workers; it is a predominantly female and homosocial society. Ellison recounts his time spent at the Hall, discussing the women’s hospitality, care, independence, and exemplary way of life. Upon realizing that one of the inhabitants, Mrs. Maynard, is also his cousin, Ellison recounts Mrs. Maynard’s own retellings of how Millenium Hall came to be, and how some of the women came to be there, including its two primary foundresses, Mrs. Morgan and Ms. Mancel.
The life of Mrs. Morgan and Ms. Mancel takes up about 40 percent of the novel’s length, about 80 pages out of 200, depending on the edition. Ellison, transcribing Mrs. Maynard’s tale, describes the harsh upbringings the both girls faced: Ms. Mancel, an orphan following her aunt’s death, who was taken in by a man intending to groom her to be his mistress, then left penniless following his death, and later forced to refuse her love’s marriage proposal due to societal expectations; Mrs. Morgan, after losing her biological mother and enduring torment at the hand of her stepmother and passive father, is forced a dispassionate and distasteful marriage. Following the death of Mr. Morgan, both women swear off marriage, instead deciding to build a commune together to care for young women and others shunned from society, including those with dwarfism or intellectual disabilities.
What makes Millenium Hall, specifically the section on Mrs. Morgan and Ms. Mancel, so noteworthy is its polite but freeing departure from conventionality. Though the novel technically follows the two men, its focus is inarguably the upper-class female inhabitants of Millenium Hall, their values, and their own lives. Mrs. Morgan, her history, and her homosocial relationships are particularly noteworthy; the diversity and complexity in her relationships with other women reveal aspects of homosocial intimacy scarcely found in earlier literature. Many of the relationships, too, are antiheterosexual: encouraging a lack of participation in marriage or other heteronormative societal expectations. Sarah Scott’s A Description of Millenium Hall, through the foundresses Mrs. Morgan, Ms. Mancel, and their relationships with the various women in their lives, highlights the three primary types of intimate homosocial relationships between upper-class women: the mother/daughter, the partner, and the rival. In varying ways, these forms of intimacy threaten and challenge the norms that are essential to understanding Millenium Hall’s bold vision of eighteenth-century society.
HISTORICAL CONTEXT
Sarah Scott, The Eighteenth-Century Woman and The Bluestocking Movement
Millenium Hall is, by all accounts, exemplary of the eighteenth-century idea of a “utopia,” an idealized society that comments on, but does not reinvent, the society it is based on. But what, exactly, makes Scott’s utopia so radical? One must first familiarize oneself with eighteenth-century society. Eighteenth-century Britain was fundamentally capitalist and hierarchical; personal worth was measured by both wealth and title. The idea of the self-made man was nascent but not yet fully recognized: class structure was extremely rigid, leaving no room for upward mobility. With the booming transcontinental trading and slave economy, money became the epicenter of eighteenth-century life. Still, a successful tradesman was nothing compared to a minor lord.
As oppressive as the eighteenth century was to poorer, lower-class men, it was more oppressive to all women. Eighteenth-century society functioned under two hierarchies: a hierarchy of class and a hierarchy of gender. Compared to earlier centuries, eighteenth-century society was far more conservative, especially regarding women’s societal expectations. Society was inherently heteronormative; for one, marriage was practically a given for women in any class, and marrying for love was a luxury afforded to few. In an odd double standard, women were both regarded as superior to men morally, yet were expected to be quiet, submissive wives who followed their husbands’ every order. Aspects of the capitalist economy, such as coverture law, gave men complete jurisdiction over women and their money; anything that the wife had owned before their marriage now belonged to her husband. Furthermore, in previous centuries, the household was an integral part of the economy, as women would sew, cook, or clean to earn money and/or provide for their families. With the trade-based capitalistic structure of eighteenth-century society, however, the home was stripped of its economic value. Eighteenth-century capitalism reduced women to being the property of their husbands, confined to the home and its “Feminized virtues of domesticity,” and reliant upon men for their every need (Mangano 471).
Sarah Scott, born Sarah Robinson, was born on September 21, 1720, in Hutton Magna, near Yorkshire, England. Her father came from generational wealth, as did her mother, meaning she and her six siblings lived a relatively comfortable life (Gräf 121). As one of two girls, and the younger one at that, Scott did not receive the financial support her siblings did, and, due to a smallpox infection, spent most of her time secluded in the country rather than sharing in her siblings’ happy city lives (Gräf 122). Scott’s older sister, Elizabeth, married a rich man twice her age and became one of the figureheads of the bluestocking feminist movement. Though having a slower start than her sister, Sarah did formally enter society after moving from place to place to live with friends and relatives following her mother’s death in 1746 (Gräf 124). She eventually moved in with a female colleague in Bath, where she published her first novel in 1750, likely as an additional means to support the household that still relied on the two women’s fathers for financial stability. When Scott married George Lewis Scott in 1751, she was catapulted into the center of London upper class society; the marriage only lasted nine months, however, causing great controversy in its wake (Gräf 124). After this, and for the rest of her life, Scott lived with her dear friend Lady Barbara in Bath, where, subsisting on her writing and £100 yearly allowance from her ex-husband, she supported various charitable works and employed mentally and physically disabled servants in her home (Gräf 124). Her work was received positively by critics at the time, and she lived a quiet and happy life with Lady Barbara until her death in 1795.
In a period where, though increasingly common, female writers were not as respected as their male counterparts, Scott chose to publish Millenium Hall under a pseudonym, an anonymous gentleman on his travels. As Mangano explains, however, the pseudonym was not completely anonymous. Many writers, such as Scott, published semi-anonymously: “In other words, Scott may well have known that a small group of friends and coterie readers might recognize the text as hers” (Mangano 465). Upper-class female writers typically had small groups of trusted individuals who would proofread, support, and provide feedback on one another’s work, though in intentionally intimate and private settings. Mangano, quoting Betty Schellenberg, describes the “reputational hazards faced by female writers, especially those of higher social standing” (465): the higher up in society one was, the more trouble one could be in for breaking the unspoken rules of society, especially regarding gender roles and domestic power dynamics. The relationships and expectations of the public versus private spheres, especially for women, made it difficult for women to advertise themselves as authors or tie themselves to their occasionally controversial work. Mangano describes this struggle for female authors between the public and private spheres:
While early modern female writers, including Lucy Hutchinson, Margaret Cavendish, and Katherine Phillips, drew on friendship ideals to politically legitimate their ventures into public discourse, the evolution of cultural ideas about the relation of public and private spheres in the next century intensified the stigma around female authorship, while also altering its meaning. By the mid-eighteenth century, the professionalization of writing and the development of modern socioeconomic theories created a different context for women's ability to participate by name in the rhetoric of public friendship. At the same time as female authorship became more common, it grew less visible due to the constriction of women's work to the domestic sphere (471).
Female authors were forced into hiding, in a sense: allowed to publish work, but not tie it to themselves, and especially not as women. In a society that seemed to be growing progressively becoming more hostile towards women, specifically independent women, homosocial friendships and relationships became all the more essential. According to Mangano, eighteenth-century male friendships were simple and commercialized; establishing a relationship with one’s peers and colleagues was centered on personal and financial gain rather than the desire for intimate, interpersonal connection (472). Homosocial female friendships, on the other hand, were far more private, confined to the home away from commercial society. For women, establishing relationships outside of commercial gain or convenience was a way to free themselves, in important ways, from their oppressive society: “Friendship ties to the private sphere,” Mangano explains, “as a means of keeping them free from the logic of exchange that dominates the political and commercial sphere, while, conversely, keeping theories of commerce free from the messy and imprecise qualities of personal affections” (467). Female friends and intimate partners would act as support systems for one another, such as being trial readers for one another’s work, or simply being a listening ear in an overbearing climate where women felt the need to censor themselves in public settings (Mangano 466). For eighteenth-century women, homosocial relationships, whether they be friendship or otherwise, meant freedom, connection, and a mutual understanding in a way a heterosocial relationship simply could not compare.
As a part of the upper class, Scott became an indirect member of the Bluestocking feminist movement. The Bluestocking movement, according to an introduction by Gary Kelly preceding the 1995 Broadview literary texts edition of Millenium Hall, describes the movement as “a feminizing and feminist movement among upper- and middle-class women that emerged in the mid-eighteenth century… Bluestocking feminism addressed gender issues and women’s oppression from the viewpoint of that coalition, but it did so as a feminization of gentry capitalism that also addressed the interest of men in those classes” (11). In other words, Bluestocking feminism was a uniquely upper and upper-middle-class movement, focused on resisting the dominant culture by giving privileged women an outlet for resisting dominant court culture and expanding gentry capitalism. As a financial structure, gentry capitalism focused on uplifting the gentry, the landowners, thus expanding the number and variety of tradesmen and professional workers, or those who worked for and with the gentry (Kelly 11). Women would meet in informal “Bluestocking clubs,” due to the wearing of blue stockings instead of formal black silk.
Bluestocking women contributed to society in a way that was typically reserved for men: participating directly, or indirectly through letters, with societal affairs, and meeting in groups to have intellectual discussions about politics, literature, and other intellectual schools of thought. They emphasized the values piety and morality, which, in an increasingly commerce-centered, male-dominated society, had gone by the wayside, replaced by excessive drinking and gambling dens. Bluestockings, instead of focusing on the exterior aspects of life, also shifted their focus inward in an attempt to both combat and free themselves from the material, money-driven world.
As discussed previously, the eighteenth century had practically stripped the home of its economic value; by embracing the home and more domestic and private duties, Bluestocking women made a statement against a society they believed to be corrupt. By embracing a more private and domestic sphere, Bluestocking women also formed a homosocial atmosphere, run by women and for women. Take Millenium Hall, for example, a grand manor established by upper-class women to support upper-class women; though men are not barred from living at the manor, per se, and Ellis notes, no men besides servants an farmhands live there at the time of the plot. Millenium Hall, as a community, is explicitlyhomosocial and inherently feminine. It is self-sufficient, supportive, pious, and moral, but, most importantly, a community opposed to the social pressures of marriage.
Though a movement seeking to give more power to the people, the Bluestocking movement sought uplift and equity of gender, but not of class. “The Bluestocking clubs,” Kelly explains, “were a form of feminist culture and practice for their time, but within a class-based project of social and cultural reform” (16). Women in the Bluestocking movement were nearly all upper-middle-class to upper-class: daughters and granddaughters of professional gentry, or even the aristocracy (Kelly 16). Because of their birth, Bluestocking women were typically educated, as well, giving them an advantage over lower-class women. As a part of the wealthier classes, as well, many Bluestocking women were unmarried or lived independently, as they did not need to rely on a husband for financial stability. Many Bluestocking women lived in community with one another, as well, living in all-female households (Kelly 17). Many, like Scott, took on a more indirect role in the movement, participating mainly through correspondence with primary members such as her sister, Elizabeth Montagu.
Though the work and charity the Bluestocking women did to bring about change in their society is admirable, it is also important to note that Bluestockings could only do what they did because of their status. Bluestocking women could meet because they did not have to take care of their homes; they could meet and discuss academia because they themselves had access to education. These women did not have to worry about marriage or financial instability: they could choose to be married if they wanted to, but it was not an obligation or necessary for their survival. Women seeking to bring about societal change still relied on their privilege and birth. Though their efforts have greatly influenced modern feminism, it is still important to recognize that eighteenth-century feminism was a primarily upper-class movement, and only possible because of the women’s less dire need for money and financial stability.
ANALYSIS
Though varying in their individual roles in society, each homosocial relationship between two women or more excluded men and promoted intimacy between women in various forms; in their own unique ways, each form of homosocial female relationship, positive, negative, or otherwise, was seen as a threat. Whether intentionally or not, the homosocial relationships in Millenium Hall, specifically those involving Mrs. Morgan, paint a well-rounded picture of what eighteenth-century female relationships looked like, how they can be categorized, and what overall roles they played in broader society. Within a society structured in relation to status, power, and power dynamics, it is perhaps inevitable, then, to categorize homosocial female relationships similarly. First, there are the relationships between women that, though imbalanced in power, are not inherently negative: this is the mother/the daughter relationship. Second, there are relationships where two women are pitted against one another, fighting for a limited amount of power: this is the rival relationship. Thirdly, there are relationships between women who are equals, working together towards a common goal in an uplifting and supportive manner: this is the partner relationship. By breaking down each of these categories and discussing their representation in Millenium Hall through Mrs. Morgan’s various relationships, one can dissect how they became seen as “threats” to tradition and social order.
The Mother/The Daughter
Based on an unequal yet beneficial and positive power dynamic, the mother/the daughter relationship is incredibly fascinating to dissect. Firstly, the mother/the daughter relationship, though using familial terms, does not have to necessarily be biological; there are countless mother/daughter relationships throughout literature that involve a “surrogate” mother figure being more maternal than a biologically related mother. One could also think of this dynamic as an intimate kind of mentorship, though referring to the relationship as “the mentor/the mentee” feels more sterile or unemotional. Furthermore, using the term “the mother/the daughter” establishes a sense of familiarity and intimate connection that “the mentor/the mentee” lacks. Within this relationship, there are typically two participants: the mother, acting as a mentor, guide, or example for the daughter, a typically younger woman in need of instruction on society and the ways of the world.
In the context of Millenium Hall and, specifically, Mrs. Morgan, there are both biological and “surrogate” mother figures within Mrs. Morgan’s life. Mrs. Morgan’s, formerly Ms. Melvyn’s, first mother is, of course, her biological mother, the late Lady Melvyn. Though Lady Melvyn died early in Mrs. Morgan’s life, Lady Melvyn still made an incredibly crucial impact on the development and teaching of young Mrs. Morgan. Upon first introduction to Mrs. Morgan’s parents, Scott describes how, though her parents’ “attachment to her had appeared equal,” Lady Melvyn had shown her a more intimate, motherly love: “Lady Melvyn’s [love] rose from that entire fondness which maternal love, and the most distinguishing reason could excite in the warmest and tenderest of hearts” (Scott 83). Beyond providing Mrs. Morgan with the crucial tender love required in childhood, Lady Melvyn also became one of Mrs. Morgan’s first instructors on society and the societal expectations of eighteenth-century women. As Scott describes, Lady Melvyn made an effort “to instill all principles of true religion into her daughter’s infant mind; and, by her judicious instructions, gave [Mrs. Morgan] knowledge far superior to her years” (84). Lady Melvyn’s instruction, combined with Mrs. Morgan’s “uncommon docility and quick parts,” made her an exceptional student, “improving beyond even Lady Melvyn’s expectation” (84). Besides being an intimate instructor, Lady Melvyn also served as a role model for a young Mrs. Morgan, particularly in the role of an eighteenth-century wife. As the wife of the relatively lacking Sir Charles, Lady Melvyn would steer conversations in a way that benefitted her husband or made him appear more intelligent than reality (84). Through Lady Melvyn’s intimate instruction, Mrs. Morgan not only became a well-behaved, knowledgeable young woman but also became aware of her place and expectations as a woman and wife. Following Lady Melvyn’s unfortunate death, the reader is then introduced to Mrs. Morgan’s second positive maternal figure, Mademoiselle D’Avaux. Upon the arrival of SirCharles’ new wife (who shall be discussed later), it was decided that Mrs. Morgan should be sent off to a boarding school, as, according to her mother-in-law, her schooling thus far has been inadequate (86). Though the relationship between Mrs. Morgan and Mademoiselle D’Avaux is not described in as much length as Mrs. Morgan’s other relationships, Mademoiselle D’Avaux still played an important role in the development of Mrs. Morgan into a young lady “fit” for eighteenth-century society. Mademoiselle D’Avaux is described as a “woman of tolerable understanding,” approving of Mrs. Morgan’s developing character (87). In other words, Mademoiselle D’Avaux becomes a sort of continuation of Lady Melvyn’s education of Mrs. Morgan, becoming another catalyst for Mrs. Morgan’s personal development. Arguably, because of her nature as school mistress, Mademoiselle D’Avaux takes on a more intimate role in Mrs. Morgan’s life than, say, a tutor would; thus, she is an example of a surrogate mother of sorts for Mrs. Morgan and all the girls under her care. What makes Mrs. Morgan’s experience with “the mother/the daughter” relationship is that, throughout the narrative, Mrs. Morgan takes on both the roles of “mother” and “daughter.”
As discussed, Mrs. Morgan had plenty of experience as “the daughter” in her early life; upon the arrival of Ms. Mancel to Mademoiselle D’Avaux’s school, however, she initially takes on a more maternal role towards Ms. Mancel. As Scott describes, “As Miss Mancel’s melancholy rendered her little inclined to play with those of her own age, she was almost always with Miss Melvyn, who found great pleasure in endeavoring to instruct her and grew to feel for her the tenderness of a mother, while Miss Mancel began to receive consolation from experiencing an affection quite maternal” (87-88). Taking from her experiences with maternal figures in her life, Mrs. Morgan instructs and mentors a younger, less knowledgeable girl in the ways she herself was mentored. Their relationship, however, is from their initial encounter, described as more intimate than what one may expect from a typical relationship between schoolmates; to Ms. Mancel, Mrs. Morgan is not simply a classmate, but an “amiable friend and instructor” (90). It is from this original intimate relationship the two foster that, later in the narrative, a stronger and more equal relationship can bloom.
It is important to note that these relationships discussed are not the only depictions of “the mother/the daughter” within Millenium Hall; in her own narrative, Ms. Mancel also has several other maternal figures, such as Mrs. Thornby and Lady Lambton, who is eventually revealed to be her biological mother. Still, the primary focus of this discussion is on Mrs. Morgan’s homosocial relationships. In general, though, Mrs. Morgan’s experience with “the mother/the daughter” relationship is a relatively well-rounded depiction of this intimate relationship, as well as how it affected the women involved. In contrast to other forms of the homosocial eighteenth-century relationship, “the mother/the daughter” is built on a positive intimacy, one of understanding and mentorship. Its “purpose” per se is to foster and instruct the younger generations of eighteenth-century women, to help them succeed and flourish in the limited societal space they are allowed to inhabit. This strict homosocial aspect of “the mother/the daughter,” combined with the fact that it allowed for women to have some limited societal flexibility, made it a threat to eighteenth-century men. Women teaching other women thus meant a more educated and socially aware population, one more difficult to control. The intimacy between mothers and daughters, try as men might, cannot be exactly replicated in a heterosocial setting: thus, that which cannot be understood and controlled was, in its essence, threatening.
The Rival
Intimate relationships between women, specifically eighteenth-century women, were not always as uplifting and compassionate as the mother/daughter relationship; intimacy, though typically discussed in a positive context, can simply mean a very close connection between two people. Negative intimate relationships, then, typically fall under the category of “the rival.” Here, there is a limited amount of resources women of typically the same social standing arefighting over, whether it be money, attention, status, influence, or some combination of saidfactors. Important to note, however, is that these categories are not necessarily exclusive: there may be overlap, such as a mother/daughter relationship also functioning as a rivalry. This, too, is the most common overlap, as the third major category acts as an antithesis to “the rival.” “The rival” may not be someone’s enemy, per se, but it is someone in proximity and relation to a person where the two interact regularly: they know one another and understand the power and influence at stake, typically so that they themselves can, in the small ways afforded to them, gain power and influence over others in their society, and the trajectories of their own lives.
Within Millenium Hall, specifically within the various intimate relationships of Mrs. Morgan, there is one standout rival: Sir Charles’s new wife and her stepmother, the new Lady Melvyn. Soon after her introduction in the novel, Lady Melvyn’s unique countenance isdescribed:
Lady Melvyn was void of delicacy; she had a regular set of features, but they wanted to be softened into effeminancy, before they could have any just pretense to beauty… In short, Lady Melvyn was on, who, by herself, and many others, would be esteemed a fine woman, and by many more, ranked only under the denomination of a shewey woman; like Mr. Bayes’s hero, she was unamiable, but she was great; she excited the admiration of some, but pleased none (89).
This description of Lady Melvyn is telling of her through her physicality: In a society that prized beauty, piety, and virtue, this description of Lady Melvyn is quite significant, as her lack of character is reflected through her physical appearance and mannerisms. Descriptions of the former Lady Melvyn are also quite suggestive in relation to the latter Lady’s character. The original Lady Melvyn, as discussed earlier, is described as a nearly perfect woman, while Sir Charles is explicitly weak-willed (83-84). Instead of supporting her husband by spurring the conversation to favorable topics or adjusting social situations to his favor, Lady Melvyn lacks integrity: she is instead controlling, taking advantage of Sir Charles’s weaknesses. As is made clear by her original description and subsequent actions, Lady Melvyn is manipulative, and most likely married Sir Charles for his money. She is an incredibly immature, childish woman, described as being able to cry on cue, typically as a way to influence Sir Charles into doing her bidding. Although Lady Melvyn may be lacking in a variety of skills and virtues, she is not lacking in cunning; she is incredibly smart and inept at getting her way.
After discussing Lady Melvyn’s character, it is then necessary to discuss how exactly she is a rival of Mrs. Morgan. As discussed previously, a rival relationship is characterized by two or more women competing for a limited resource; in this case, it is for attention, love, money, and influence over Sir Charles. Take, for example, how Lady Melvyn tries to decrease Mrs.Morgan’s visit’s home under the guise of it being “hurtful” to Lady Melvyn and her education (88). Clearly, this is a ploy to separate Mrs. Morgan from Sir Charles. Still, her scheming does not end there: Lady Melvyn, by lying to Sir Charles about a supposed affair between Mrs. Morgan and a young farm boy, succeeded in marrying off the future Mrs. Morgan to Mr. Morgan, despite the lack of love or respect Mrs. Morgan felt towards her suitor (108, 123). It is clear that Lady Melvyn’s intentions are selfish, as she uses practically every opportunity she can to separate Mrs. Morgan from Sir Charles and marry her off to the unloving Mr. Morgan.
To Lady Melvyn, Mrs. Morgan is a threat to the power and influence she holds as Sir Charles’s wife. All of the interactions between Mrs. Morgan and her stepmother are tense, full of disdain and unspoken emotion. Even their characters contrast; while Lady Melvyn is described as explained above, Mrs. Morgan is described as humble and “void of pride” (92). It is clear through Mrs. Morgan’s various actions, such as opening Millenium Hall with Ms. Mancel, that Mrs. Morgan has a strong sense of duty to do what is right and just. Where Lady Melvyn seeks to belittle those around her, specifically Mrs. Morgan, Mrs. Morgan seeks to build up those around her, such as Ms. Mancel and the other members of the Hall. Where Mrs. Morgan is an exemplary woman, Lady Melvyn is the antithesis of the expected societal expectations for women, aligning closer with the self-interest and transactional norms of male friendships, being self-centered and void of morality. Thus, she is a perfect rival for Mrs. Morgan, serving as a bad example to highlight Mrs. Morgan’s value and character.
Though it may not appear so at first glance, “the rival” relationships threatened the social order in its own way. For one, it is again homosocial, built based on two relatively equal persons fighting for limited power; a woman could not be seen as a man’s equal. Even if lower than men, there is still a power to be found in strictly feminine relationships; it is a loss to society, even one that could be considered “corrupt,” when women abandon the potential cures to selfishness and corruption that the women of Millenium Hall seek to foster. Furthermore, rivalries cause unrest between women. Not only does unrest lead to women recognizing the flaws in their society, but it also inspires them to fight against the oppressive aspects of their society, built by men to benefit men. Rivalries cause upset to women, and upset women are harder to control; upset women become radical women, and radical women create change.
The Partner
Of all the types of intimate relationships in eighteenth-century literature, the most “equal,” and arguably the strongest, is “the partner” relationship. The word “partner” itself insinuates a reciprocal aspect of the relationship, which can arguably only be obtained when both parties have an equal amount of power or sway in the relationship; “reciprocal sympathies,” as Mangano states (478). One aspect of “the partner” dynamic that sets it apart from its two counterparts is its ability to vary. A partner may be romantic, platonic, or simply a close business partner: it is a relationship that values both mutual support and self-fulfillment. Throughout Millenium Hall, there are various representations of partners, primarily platonic and business. All the older ladies who reside in the Hall, for example, can be categorized as “partners,” due to their intimate relationships with one another and relatively equal power distribution. Considering Mrs.Morgan as a nexus of many kinds of homosociality requires, then, attending to the singular intimacy of her relationship with her fellow foundress, Ms. Mancel.
Throughout the course of the section, Mrs. Morgan and Ms. Mancel’s relationship grows, strengthens, and evolves. As discussed previously, when originally introduced to one another, the two start to form more of a “mother/daughter” relationship. Mrs. Morgan, then Ms. Melvyn, acts as a mentor for Ms. Mancel as she adapts to her new life in the boarding school: Scott evendescribes Ms. Mancel as Mrs. Morgan’s “little pupil,” with whom she was very pleased (92). As the two grow closer and older, however, their relationship becomes more equal. The two grow fonder of one another: when Ms. Mancel was to leave school for Easter break, for example, Scott describes her unwillingness to leave Mrs. Morgan, “of whose conversation she was now particularly tenacious” (99). Here, the girls appear to be more equals, partners, rather than an intimate mentor and mentee. Once the two become old enough to marry, their relationship does not falter, but, on the contrary, only grows stronger. Mrs. Morgan, when forced to marry Mr.
Morgan, seeks comfort in Ms. Mancel: “she ran to her friend, to seek from her that advice and consolation, which her own distracted thoughts could not afford her” (124). Now, the former mentor is seeking advice from her former mentee, symbolizing their now equal and reciprocal relationship with one another. Mrs. Morgan even refers to Ms. Mancel as “my Louisa,” signifying a relationship that may extend beyond simple friendliness (125). The two women then choose to swear off marriage, instead living with one another as special and chosen intimates, using their combined fortunes to provide for other young women and girls, much like their younger selves.
Within “partner” relationships, such as that between Mrs. Morgan and Ms. Mancel, there is a sense of mutual love and reciprocity, an ideal of “what’s mine is yours.” Scott directly introduces this ideal early in the work, through the concept Meum et Tuum, Latin for “mine and yours” (93). Mangano also echoes this sentiment in his work: “[this] concept of friendshipprompts an analogy between form and content, or, rather, between shared property and thesharing of information” (477). Though there are many reciprocal and shared aspects of partner relationships, the concept of Meum et Tuum specifically addresses material goods, or the mutual sharing of money, goods, and property. In a society where single women did not have many opportunities to expand their wealth or obtain money outside of heterosexual marriage, finding a way to obtain financial stability was a necessity; this, then, meant that many women relied on one another for financial stability.
The colonial capitalist structure of eighteenth-century society, too, was not very forgiving, seeping into other aspects of society, such as interpersonal connections. Meum et Tuum, then, was a way for women to support one another in a mutually beneficial economic manner. Adrienne Rich, in her work “Compulsory Heterosexuality and Lesbian Existence,” makes the claim that this concept of Meum et Tuum is still necessary today, claiming that, because of horizontal segregation and women’s “inferior position in the workplace,” women must stick together to survive (641). There, too, is a societal aspect of women relying on one another for stability: societal independence. As discussed previously, many women, especially
Bluestocking women, found their society to be less than ideal; separating oneself from society by relying strictly on homosocial companionship, such as their “partners,” then meant freedom to express their own Christian morality separated from the perceived iniquity of their own society. The argument that homosocial partnerships were a threat to heteronormative eighteenth- century society is an easy one to make; these are women who see themselves as equals, understand one another on an incredibly deep emotional level, and potentially resist the capitalistic culture that encourages and rewards predatory, self-seeking behavior. Equal women who care for one another beyond polite acquaintance will discuss with one another, share ideas and wisdom, and support one another; see, for example, the Bluestockings. Intimate homosocial partnership left no room or need for men, and thus, no room or need for women to be controlled.
Female partnership meant growth and empowerment, and growth and empowerment were threatening. Though it is never specified in Millenium Hall that Mrs. Morgan and Ms. Mancel are romantically involved, some arguments can be made to support the claim. Take, for example, when the two are married, Mr. Morgan forbids Mrs. Morgan from seeing Ms. Mancel: “‘Madam, my wife must have no other companion or friend but her husband; I shall never be averse to your seeing company, but intimates I forbid’” (130). Note the use of “intimate:” it is clear, even to someone like Mr. Morgan, that the relationship between Mrs. Morgan and Ms. Mancel is something beyond polite friendship. Mangano discusses this jealousy from Mr. Morgan, too, explaining that “Married women's friendships evoke a fear like that of cuckoldry; Mr. Morgan suspects his wife of leaking his embarrassing behavior through a channel of female friends, thereby rendering him an object of public ridicule” (475). The sense of insecurity Mr. Morgan expresses makes the relationship between Mrs. Morgan feel more intimate and, arguably, romantic.
It is essential to note that theorizing about the romantic aspect of Mrs. Morgan and Ms. Mancel’s partnership can become a complex and nuanced subject. It is true that, in the novel, both women are involved in some way or another with a man, i.e., Mr. Morgan and Sir Edward. These relationships, though, can be argued as not romantically charged. Marriage, as explained previously, was rarely romantic. Furthermore, it can be argued that Mrs. Morgan used marriage to gain some small independence from her family, though, in the process, she gave up her autonomy to her husband. Bisexuality, too, is a viable option, as heterosexuality and homosexuality are not inherently exclusive. The strongest argument, however, is the idea of compulsory heterosexuality as a means of survival. Mrs. Morgan specifically marries Mr. Morgan due to threats from her stepmother, as well as the threat of societal ruin if her stepmother’s lies about her adultery with one of the farmhands were to come to light. Rich effectively explains this female predicament: “Women have married because it was necessary, in order to survive economically, in order to have children who would not suffer economic deprivation or social ostracism, in order to remain respectable, in order to do what was expected of [them]” (654).
In the context of Louisa, Ms. Mancel, who longs for a man who loves her back but does not pursue him due to her obligation to Lady Lambton, another of Rich’s claims is applicable: “women are inevitably, even if rashly or tragically, drawn to men; … even when that attraction is suicidal (657). Women may be drawn to men, even pursue a relationship and marry men, even when it would be harmful to them due to the “necessity” of heteronormativity. The desire for male approval romantically is so embedded in society, especially eighteenth-century society, that it exceeds simple romantic attraction and morphs into a subconscious survival strategy to ensure financial and societal stability.
When discussing Mrs. Morgan and Ms. Mancel’s intimacy under the argument of lesbianism, it is important to acknowledge how queerness and homoeroticism are classified today. In a modern sense, queerness is the rejection of heteronormativity through typically physical and romantic relationships involving two members of the same gender identity. In the conservative, especially sexually conservative, eighteenth-century society, however, such relationships were not typically as physical, or explicitly so; this does not mean that there were no queer people and relationships, however. Same-sex sexuality was explored and known about in the eighteenth-century, but not exactly or as openly as in modern times. As outlined previously, intimacy is not inherently physical—it can simply be an incredibly close relationship and sense of understanding between two or more parties. Intimate queer relationships in the eighteenth-century, then, can simply be defined as intimate partners refusing to partake in the heteronormative aspects of society, such as Mrs. Morgan and Ms. Mancel. The pair’s rejection of capitalism, of relying on men financially, and their refusal to participate in the institution of heterosexual marriage rejected heteronormativity and, thus, can be defined as queer. What makes their relationship so revolutionary is not necessarily its sexual aspect or relationship to reproduction, but rather how it is breaking out of the “conveyor belt” of respectability and defying social authority. Perhaps Scott meant for their relationship to be up for interpretation: sexuality, as a concept, is confusing and convoluted, especially for eighteenth-century women. Women such as Mrs. Morgan and Ms. Mancel need not be categorized by their sexuality, but rather by their morality and quality of person.
CONCLUSION
The utopia that is Millenium Hall is, in its own quiet way, a critique of eighteenth-century society. Firstly, Millenium Hall is a critique of the eighteenth-century economic structure and its deformation of values and norms. As Mangano explains, “Millenium Hall critiques the destructiveness of market capitalism by modeling a form of gentry capitalism centered on collectivized land ownership” (472). The communal-style economy of the Hall is alluring and directly opposes the societal norm: it builds on prior discussion and questioning of gentry capitalism’s effectiveness. Scott, though her depiction of Mrs. Morgan and Ms. Mancel’s lives at the hall, is also proposing an alternative life for women: one without marriage and the societal burdens of gentry capitalism. Mrs. Morgan, Ms. Mancel, and various other women at the hall live successful, fulfilling lives while effectively bypassing marriage; the inevitability of marriage, then, is put into question. Though not the first noteworthy work of literature to do so, the importance of Scott’s subtle yet pointed critique should not be understated. So doing, too, quite powerfully puts into question whether women are inherently lesser than men: directly questioning societally upheld expectations. Even in her own life, Scott questioned her society, decidedly not marrying and living out the rest of her days with her close female “friend.” This is what makes Scott’s vision of Millenium Hall so revolutionary: it is a society, though not entirely void of social pressure, with decreased societal expectations, instead focused on uplifting, supporting, and educating young women who will one day bring about societal change that older generations could only dream of.
Though Scott was quite revolutionary in her writing and thinking, one must also consider how she was not a “perfect” feminist icon, either. For one, Scott was able to write and partake in Bluestocking discussions because she, too, participated in a class-based society; as an upper-class woman, she would have hired servants to take care of household chores and domesticduties. She had the opportunity to write, read, and participate in discussions because she, too, benefitted from privilege. Still, leisure is an important aspect of leadership. Without time to step away from and observe society, how can one know how and where there are flaws? Making change in society, especially on such a systemic level, is a long and laborious process, taking usually generations to begin to feel the ripples of progress; embracing and recognizing one’s privilege is not inherently wrong. How one uses their privilege, however, is where the topic becomes more nuanced. Furthermore, leaders and role models require a sense of humanity, of flaw, to be fully appealing; heroes are heroes, not saints.
Looking back on what those in the past considered a utopia, an altered version of the world, gives the modern reader an incredibly intimate glimpse into said society: the best way to know a society is to know where and how it falls short. Thanks to writers and Bluestockings like Scott, modern feminist scholars can interpret how eighteenth-century women combatted their oppressive heteronormative, capitalist, and misogynistic society. Though it is important to recognize that Millenium Hall is completely fictitious, as are the characters and relationships within it, the arguments that Scott makes through the work are nonetheless valuable. In a way, Millenium Hall also puts our own society into perspective; it allows us to recognize how far women’s political and social rights have come, but also how far we still have yet to go.
Works Cited
Gräf, Holger Th. “Sarah Scott: A Female Historian in Mid-Eighteenth Century Bath.” Bath History, vol. 10, 2005, pp. 121–136.
Mangano, Bryan. “Institutions of Friendship in Sarah Scott’s ‘Millenium Hall.’” Texas Studies in Literature and Language, vol. 57, no. 4, 2015, pp. 464–90. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/26155315. Accessed 1 Mar. 2026.
Rich, Adrienne. “Compulsory Heterosexuality and Lesbian Existence.” Signs, vol. 5, no. 4, 1980, pp. 631–60. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/3173834. Accessed 1 Mar. 2026.
Scott, Sarah. Millenium Hall. Ed. Gary Kelly, Broadview Press, 1995.