Ruth

While Ruth is terrified that her chance encounter with Mr. Donne (Bellingham) will reveal her secret, Gaskell cleverly manipulates the plot through a series of highs and lows to build tension before the climax of Ruth’s confrontation with Mr. Bradshaw. Despite Ruth’s integrity, kindness, and virtue, the literary trope of the fallen woman narrative demands that she experience suffering or punishment beyond the collapse of her relationship with Bellingham.

Ruth’s life in Eccleston, with her son, steady employment, and a happy role in the community, comes dangerously close to suggesting that a woman could lose her virtue and still live a happy life. Since part of Ruth’s story is intended as a warning, as well as a critique of how society responds to fallen women, Gaskell keeps readers on edge, waiting for the fateful reveal or some other form of punishment. Ruth manages to avoid detection when Bellingham agrees to leave her alone and then also evades the tragedy of her son dying, but these examples of rising action increase the stakes and tension around the deception she has been perpetuating for years. Gaskell writes that “those wild autumnal storms had torn aside the quiet flowers and herbage that had gathered over the wreck of her early life” (233), using metaphors of the seasons and the natural world to illustrate how Ruth’s sense of peace and safety is permanently altered after the confrontation with Bellingham. The reference to “autumnal storms” reflects the time of year they met and the violent weather that occurred during that time, mirroring Ruth’s internal tumult.

The love triangle between Ruth, Jemima, and Mr. Farquhar allows Gaskell to explore themes of femininity, solidarity between women, and redemption. Jemima feels constricted by the ideal of traditional, docile, and submissive femininity, and she chafes under her father’s strict and domineering paternal control. For example, Jemima describes finding it “inexpressibly repugnant to her to think of her father consulting with a stranger […] how to manage his daughter, so as to obtain the end he wished for” (178), and the choice of “manage” implies that Mr. Bradshaw’s role as a strict father overlaps with his role as a business manager: instead of seeing Jemima as a complex and nuanced individual, he sees her as an asset to protect, control, and derive value from.

Gaskell portrays Jemima’s rebelliousness sympathetically and yet also shows it having harmful consequences: because Jemima becomes almost obsessed with the idea that men are going to scold, discipline, and restrict her, she is unable to embrace her love for Farquhar and see that the two of them could build a happy and equitable relationship together.

Jemima’s challenges to gendered expectations of femininity also leave her vulnerable to jealousy and resentment toward a woman who more readily embodies these ideals. Because Jemima is insecure about whether Farquhar can genuinely love her for who she is, she rushes to assume that he must prefer Ruth. Jemima grimly concludes that “he was drawn towards sweet, lovely composed and dignified Ruth—one who always thought before she spoke […]—who never was tempted by sudden impulse, but walked the world calm and self-governed” (179). Jemima’s characterization of Ruth reveals the Victorian ideal of womanhood but is also a striking example of dramatic irony: Jemima, at this time, has no idea about Ruth’s past and doesn’t realize that Ruth has been extremely impulsive and willful when she violated social convention to pursue an illicit relationship with Bellingham. Through this exploration of Jemima’s jealousy and resentment, Gaskell shows that rigid expectations and ideals around femininity can often pit women against one another and make it hard for them to build lasting friendships with one another.

In a surprising plot twist, despite Jemima’s jealousy, she refuses to betray Ruth even when she has the capacity to utterly ruin her and drive her away from Farquhar forever. In a novel where many characters try to balance integrity with their own emotions and motivations, Jemima’s decision to keep Ruth’s secret stands out as an example of a character rising above her own emotions to act for the greater good. In this context, Jemima’s rebellious, free-thinking, and strong-willed spirit benefits her, positioning her as more similar to Faith and Mr. Benson than her own family. Jemima has faith in her ability to read Ruth’s character and trusts the evidence of what she has witnessed while observing Ruth closely. Jemima explicitly names this belief when she says, “I will speak. I will not keep silence. I will bear witness to Ruth” (251), using language that has both legal (acting as a witness in a trial or court case) and religious (professing faith or belief) significance.

During the Victorian era, part of the reasoning for why fallen women should be socially ostracized was the belief that they could easily corrupt other innocent women and girls by exposing them to their illicit knowledge of sex. As a young and unmarried woman, Jemima is positioned as someone who would theoretically be most vulnerable to Ruth’s potential corruption, but what she learns about Ruth’s past elevates rather than degrades her. Jemima steps into an adult identity where she makes important choices based on her reasoning and integrity; this choice to keep Ruth’s secret is what finally transforms Jemima from a flighty and fickle girl to a grounded woman who can subsequently lay claim to the romantic relationship that she wants and finally find happiness with Farquhar.

In contrast, Mr. Bradshaw’s character is re-entrenched rather than transformed by the revelation about Ruth’s past. He doubles down on his rigidity and moral absolutism, relying on abstract principles rather than the evidence of what he has observed in Ruth’s behavior. In his confrontations with Ruth and Mr. Benson, Mr. Bradshaw refuses to consider extenuating circumstances or show any compassion or empathy. When Ruth pleads that she was young when she began her relationship with Bellingham, he rebukes her, saying that merely makes her “the more depraved, the more disgusting” (250). Along with the extremely harsh language he uses here, he accuses Ruth of plotting and corruption, suggesting that “she has come amongst us with her innocent seeming, and spread her nets well and skillfully” (252). The imagery of nets implies that Ruth has intentionally plotted to lure the young Bradshaw girls into immoral actions, trapping them like fish or animals. This language ironically inverts Gaskell’s earlier imagery of Ruth as a hunted animal, implying that Bradshaw sees her as predatory when he should see her as a victim.

Mr. Bradshaw aligns himself with legal and religious philosophies that emphasize punishment and a harsh notice of justice and penitence. His response to Ruth’s transgression is hypocritical, given his lies and misdeeds during the election, but he fails to see the connection and judges other people much more harshly than himself. Mr. Bradshaw complains to Mr. Benson that “I saw her daily—I did not know her. If I had known her, I should have known that she was fallen and depraved” (260), highlighting his sense of betrayal and deception.

The revelation of Ruth’s past functions as a kind of secondary fall, largely reverting her to the circumstances of her life after Bellingham abandoned her in Wales. Even though so many years had gone by, and Ruth had worked so hard, everything she had established could be abruptly ripped away because one mistake has defined her forever in the eyes of society. Unlike when she was an orphaned young girl, Ruth now has the advantages of a loving family and a child, but she also feels a sense of responsibility to contribute and support them. Ruth seems less concerned with the emotional shame and stress of losing many of her friends than with the practical economic considerations of being unable to find work. While her work as a governess (traditionally a type of work for middle or even upper-class women since it required someone to be well-educated and genteel) and her position in the Benson household allowed her to maintain a comfortable social position, Ruth is now reduced to work that would be considered a last resort by many. Jemima’s reaction to the news is telling: “Involuntarily glancing over the beautiful lithe figure, and the lovely refinement of Ruth’s face […] [she said] ‘My dear Ruth, I don’t think you are fitted for it’” (286). In this quotation, Jemima focuses on Ruth’s elegance, beauty, and refined manners to establish a juxtaposition between Ruth and the type of woman who would have no choice except to subject herself to working as a nurse.

Nonetheless, Ruth’s transition to working as a nurse continues her character development by showing her utter humility and lack of ego; she submits to degrading and dangerous work because she sees herself as someone who does not deserve anything better. The work of nursing also aligns her with traditional archetypes of feminine care and nurturing; as Leonard is growing older and no longer needs much care, Ruth voluntarily casts herself in an ongoing maternal and self-sacrificing role.