Ann Carson Sat on a Wall; Ann Carson Had a Great Fall

In the final week of reading Ann Carson’s memoirs, I wanted to focus on class identity and resistance. AC seems to me to be a paradox. The whole while she seeks anarchy, she craves and yearns for societal acceptance. She understands that she is judge by the company she keeps. She angrily criticizes Messrs. Freytage (he of the “nocturnal visit) and Renshaw (who asked her to spy) for implicating her with “their bad company” (Vol. II 62). Clarke too, understands guilt by association and continually tried to separate herself from Carson’s friends. When she discovered that AC lived in a place with gamblers and men of the black cloth, she refused to come to the house anymore. She also blames Carson’s fall on the poor character of Captain Carson:

My firm impression of Mrs. Carson’ natural character was, that she would have been a virtuous good, tame, gentle, affectionate domestic woman, had she been permitted to choose a husband for herself, as even her forced marriage with Richard Smyth tamed her former wild spirit. (Vol II 90)

Captain Carson thought it was his job to form Ann Carson’s character as a woman before she turned 18, but he also damage her reputation by naming her as a whore. However, I think we can question why Clarke feels this need to defend Carson, a woman who robbed her at each chance she got; perhaps we can do that in class. Nevertheless, we can look at how Clarke calls attention to the role of the husband in forming the identity of the woman. Moreover, Ann Carson chose to adapt and connect her identity to the republican patriarchal whenever it suited her needs. The jailor, upon learning that she was the widow of TWO war heroes and the daughter of Captain Baker, found that he could not permit her to stay in jail until her trial, and therefore found her a nice room in the courthouse to reside (Vol II 141). Even Mr. D. feels a debt of gratitude and agrees to print her book because of her identity as the daughter of Captain Baker. In prison, she uses her father’s and her husband’s war record to argue against being forced to attend an integrated church service—where all identity is lumped in a kettle (much like the Judge Hatter lumped them together for one trial—she detested the lumping). In the spirit of Republic anarchy, she uses imperialists rhetoric to condemn the prison authority, “like a West India planter to his slave” he made her attend church services (69).

Another way in which Ann Carson created her identity was through her clothes, which the last third of the reading discussed quite a bit. In prison, she and Mrs. Stoops put up quite a battle (she uses lots of war rhetoric in her argument) to keep their stockings, petticoats, caps, and ruffles. She, as resistant to authority as ever, refuses to embrace conformity and take the prisoner garb as her own. But because she makes a good argument that posits her as an upper-stratum prisoner, the guards frequently succumb and acquiesce to her demands. In the end, she is allow to alter her clothes, blending her own with the prisoner uniforms until she looks like a “bouncing country lass” (65). She is also, because of her class position, allowed to keep her long hair (Vol II 168). Ironically, she becomes the superintendent of the ladies’ wardrobe. Doesn’t this sound hypocritical? But she enjoys this (as much as she can being a prisoner) because she is in charge—an identity she enjoys. She is “over” workers of “the lowest grades of society—just above Hottentots.” She takes class identity via wearing apparel by implementing a new system where prisoner names are “permanently” marked, and thus “identified,” on each garment. I should add that she maintains she is blackmailed into the position by a promise for Charles’ liberty by Mr. Mierken. But again, it is better to rule such “low people” as to work with them—be identified as one of them: “all colours and ages, spinning, clothed in the convict apparel, so shocked me that my fortitude evaporated and mortified pride usurped its place; the idea that I too would make one of this delectable group so oppressed my heart” (64).

The reason she works so hard to keep up her appearance as a gentile person is that she is constantly afforded privileges. Her position in the prison affords her a “semblance of liberty” and “free will.” Likewise, her clothing out of jail affords her to be able to meet Isaac Riles, the “famous printer,” and sells the memoirs and Mrs. Clarke’s pamphlets, songs, etc. Her quality of manner and dress—or rather her “mask” of gentility, distracts the shopkeeper attention. He makes assumptions of Ann Carson based on her dress and fails to check the notes to see if they are authentic.

These two volumes reveal to the reader that class identity is defined by what money can procure. Ann exchanges her money for counterfeit money equaling about $1,100 dollars, She tells Mrs. Clarks, “We have now my dear friend, money to set up perfectly at ease, and enable us to enjoy the elegancies and comforts of life, to which we had both been accustomed” (107). Mrs. Clarke maintains that class status is defined by one’s proven character, “the voice of the public is now in your favour; you were rapidly gaining friends among the respectable class of society.” Clarke, states, that in order to maintain her own status, she must due her “duty to society to give information against you, as you well know I am security to the civil authority for your good conduct, and must do my duty for the sake of my children, and my own character” (Vol II 110). Ultimately, Clarke must not only physically separate herself from Carson, she must make the publically in order to maintain her class standing—she is forced to bring suit again Carson.

I find it interesting that Ann Carson uses identities (Baker, Carson, Smyth, and Mitchell) to gain access to buildings and services that she requires. She wants leniency, she calls for Captain Baker, to hide from her popularity, she masks herself as Mrs. Mitchell, to make money on her book, she embraces “Carson,” and “Smyth” allows her some anonymity by its common name, but I am struck that she hardly uses it. She challenged the Sherriff that his warrant was invalid because she is Mrs. Mitchell, but the Sheriff was wise to her by now and had the warrant made out in all her names (I died laughing here :).

I want to write about her anarchy, but I see my posts is getting quite long. So I’ll sum up by noting that like all good carnivalesque moments, Ann has a quite nice fall off the wall. She, injured and quite contrite, begs forgiveness. Thus she falls and is reborn a better person. Clarke makes sure we know that she died penitent. Personally, I find it hard to believe that Clarke was so forgiving, but I can see that she would need to portray herself that way in order to justify her first work, which she reissued with Volume II. If Ann Carson wasn’t the victim, and if Ann didn’t continue to be a victim, Clarke’s reputation (such as it was) would suffer and perhaps she would not sell as many books. We have to remember she was working on a children’s history book. I still have 2 ½ pages of single-spaced notes, but I’d best quit here and go grade papers.