The Witches of New York

Though Eleanor, Adelaide, and Beatrice must confront the demon Malphas and his schemes, more often than not, their biggest foe is not supernatural. Rather, McKay deliberately depicts how greater dangers originate in the era’s systemic misogyny. One such example can be found in the psychiatric ward at Blackwell’s Island and how a woman is diagnosed and admitted as a patient. Historically, women could be admitted on the recommendations of their family members and husbands alone, and they were often sent to these wards without their consent (and with little regard for their mental health). Though knowledge about mental health during the Gilded Age was at best rudimentary when it came to diagnosing men, it became an outlet for patriarchal tyranny in the case of women. As Brody’s experience with his mentor, Dr. Mitchell, demonstrates, even experts tend to diminish women in their diagnoses:

[H]e’d witnessed Mitchell chastising them (often quite severely) for “thinking, day-dreaming and fretting, too readily and too much.” He’d diagnosed every woman who had a stray feeling, craving, desire, wish, interest, worry, affection, inkling, suspicion, knowing, predilection or ability, with nervous exhaustion (128).

Women who showed any amount of ambition, concern, interest, or basic personality traits were dismissed and treated under an umbrella diagnosis that failed to take any of their concerns seriously. Worse, psychiatric institutions were weaponized to rid society of its so-called undesirables, which included anyone who defied traditional gender roles or, as is the case for Sophie Miles, showed an interest in an unacceptable topic like witchcraft. There is thus always an underlying tension that Eleanor, Adelaide, and Beatrice are only one accusation away from joining the likes of Sophie. Treatments in these institutions were also specifically designed to incapacitate women. While male patients were pushed to regain physical autonomy and confidence, women had “no strenuous activity prescribed, no adventure-filled trips to the West—only bed rest and boredom leading to loneliness and desperation” (128). Being admitted to the psychiatric ward, therefore, left women at the mercy of a medical diagnosis that would strip them of their livelihoods, identities, and abilities to be functioning members of society.

Likewise, there is danger in being a single woman in an age that only respects the opinions and powers of men. Though Eleanor and Adelaide are able to secure a storefront for themselves, Eleanor feels persistent anxiety about their homestead as she knows their landlord, Mr. Withrow, holds misogynistic views. When the window is broken by a vandal, he shows this side of himself by complaining: “I don’t know why I even agreed to rent to a pair of petticoats” (236). His usage of the word “petticoat” instead of “women” is an example of synecdoche and highlights his disdain, as it dehumanizes Eleanor and Adelaide and crassly equates them with an undergarment. His disapproval of Eleanor and Adelaide also paves the way for Cecil Newland to take his revenge on Eleanor. Though purchasing the building that houses the tea shop is legal, Mr. Withrow agrees to the sale without any notice to his tenants and is more than happy to see the discomfort it causes them. Regarding the eviction notice, he tells them, “‘It’s your walking papers,’ […] with a smirk” (352). Mr. Withrow never had any respect for either woman, and seeing them homeless is something in which he takes joy. McKay thus paints an accurate historical picture of how women walking off the prescribed path can be a source of anxiety, danger, and maliciousness that equals the conniving schemes of a demon.