Here is Lady Winchilsea, for example, I thought, taking down her poems. She was born in the year 1661; she was noble both by birth and by marriage; she was childless; she wrote poetry, and one has only to open her poetry to find her bursting out in indignation against the position of women:

“I really don't advise a woman who wants to have things her own way to get marri…”

“One wanted, she thought, dipping her brush deliberately, to be on a level with …”

“How was one to lasso her mind, and tether it to this minute, unimportant spot?”

“the battered woman--for she wore a skirt--with her right hand exposed, her left…”