‘madness’ is a cover for, and instead consider what
this means for the treatment of mental illness as
a whole in comparison to the treatment of visible
disabilities, both in the Victorian Era, and in the
twenty-first century.
Unable to Function, or Living a Successful Life?
Using the previously-established definition of
‘madness,’ one must conclude that if Lady Audley
were truly mad, she would be ‘unable to behave in a
reasonable way’ (Author Unknown, 2019), implying
a level of disability when compared to others in her
society. Whilst there are places where Lady Audley
can be seen to not quite fit into her given societal
role - such as her subtle display of confusion when
serving tea to Robert Audley (Braddon, 176) - she
is predominantly able to function well in the society
in which she has placed herself, with her ability to
ceaselessly lie for the gaining and protection of her
wealth demonstrating a high level of control over
her mental faculties: one which I argue could not
have been maintained for so long in somebody truly
suffering from the severe level of mental illness with
which she claims to be inflicted.
Lady Audley’s ability to quickly come up with
plausible excuses in order to avoid the uncovering
of her misdeeds is seen consistently throughout the
novel, proving that Lady Audley is able to remain
calm enough under pressure to rapidly produce the
information required to avoid discovery. Following
her altercation with George Talboys at the well,
she is questioned about the bruises on her wrist,
immediately claiming that she had gained them
from a piece of ribbon tied tightly around it several
days beforehand (72). Had it not been for Robert’s
knowledge of the way in which the colouring of
bruises alters over time, it is likely that her lie would
never have been discovered. Lady Audley is able
to lie in this way throughout the novel, without
becoming noticeably-anxious at the questioning.
Her downfall comes not as the result of any severe
slip-up on her part, but as the consequence of a
series of circumstantial evidence compiled by a
man with training in law and an intellect equal to
30
her own (Saxey, 1997, xx). Lady Audley’s ability
to lie about her bigamy and assault on her first
husband is representative of her ability to lie and
omit information about her upbringing more widely,
indicating that her mental faculties were intact
enough for her to at least put on an appearance
of behaving ‘reasonably.’ When compared to the
characters of Bertha in Jane Eyre: who often lunges
at those who enter the room, seemingly without
control (Brontë, 1969, 293); and Anne Catherick in
The Woman in White: who is easily startled and often
repeats herself to the extent of being noticeably
unusual and out-of-place (Collins, 2008, 21), Lady
Audley demonstrates a level of composure not
displayed in those typically considered to be ‘mad,’
both by the established standards in the wider world
of Victorian Literature, and by the modern Cambridge
definition.
Therefore, Lady Audley’s level of composure and
ability to calmly lie to protect her own interests
indicates her lack of ‘madness'. Whilst she may not
have been raised as the submissive upper-class
woman she claims to be, her ability to perform this
role without raising suspicion for the length of time
she did indicates that, far from being mentally unwell,
Lady Audley had more control over her mental
faculties and behaviours than most women in the
nineteenth-century were expected to possess.
‘Madness’ as a Social Crutch
Lady Audley’s control over her behaviours extends
beyond keeping suspicion away from herself, but
also towards knowing how to present others as
being guilty of her own crimes. She is able to predict
the way in which Robert’s investigations could be
dangerous to her, and so plants the seed of doubt
as to his sanity in her husband’s mind; referring to
Robert as being a ‘little out of his mind’ (Braddon,
226). Furthermore, when Phoebe realises it were Lady
Audley who started the fire, she states ‘I will tell you
nothing except that you are a madwoman,’ and orders
her to ‘get up, mad woman’ (259). These frequent
accusations of madness in order to protect her own
interests indicate that this may also be the aim of