Twice repulsed, I decided to try again in a part of the city where the
immigrant element predominates. Both the neighborhoods tried were
quasi-American. I strolled down the Bowery, staring longingly and
beseechingly into the eyes of the adolescents I passed, but too timid to
accost any. Those who had known me all my life, had they met me now,
would have wondered what could have brought into the then theatre and
red-light district of the foreign laboring classes of the city, at an
hour approaching midnight, a timid youth, hitherto called an “innocent,”
naturally pious, and generally esteemed for his intellectual tastes. My
friends would never have dreamed that I would frequent that red-light
district near midnight, and would never have believed it if any one told
them that I was there for no good purpose.
[Sidenote: _The “Innocent” in Red-light District._]
Arrived at the southern end of the Bowery, I turned into New Bowery,
because it looked dark and crime-inviting. I roamed for another half
hour in the dark, deserted streets of this quarter, accosting one or two
young dockrats who were still abroad, but they simply ransacked my
pockets, gave me a parting blow, and went on their way. Moistening my
handkerchief at a drinking fountain, I washed my bloodstained face.
Finally, after midnight, thoroughly sobered by my disappointments and
physical smarting, I boarded a car. Securing my key from its hiding
place, I let myself into my lodgings without any one ever learning of my
nocturnal ramble.
How shall such conduct on the part of one of the members of an
intellectual and decent community be judged? Let not the reader in
pharisaical self-complacency—an attitude of mind all too common in
dealing with the victims of congenital defects of mind or brain—begin to
set his own virtue over against the apparent depravity of such as I. If
he has not fallen as low as I, it is not necessarily because he is
morally good, and I morally bad, but because in him there has been no
overpowering impulse to do what mankind regards as unspeakably low. As
to yielding to the sexual instinct, many have comparatively weak
impulses in that direction, and could remain celibate all their lives
without experiencing any kind or degree of suffering. Others would be
rendered semi-mad by such abstinence, as was the case with me. The Rev.
Robert Collyer has stated the matter well. It is like two young men to
each of whom is given a field to cultivate. That of the one is fertile,
free from stones, thicket, and weeds; that of the other a dense marshy
jungle. Can the two contestants be expected in the same time to produce
equally good crops of grain from their widely different pieces of land?
Some men are born with much in their mental make-up that disposes them
to evil, while others find it no effort to live virtuous lives.
[Sidenote: _Judgment on My Slumming._]
While I have thus in my more mature judgment considered myself
practically irresponsible for the conduct just described, in that early
stage of my career, I was not so sure, and during the day following this
first nocturnal ramble, was overwhelmed with a sense of shame and guilt.
When night came on, I made my way to a solitary spot in a large park,
where I threw myself on the ground to weep and shriek and pray. The
burden of my prayer was that God would change my nature that very moment
and give me the mind and powers of a man. I soon heard footsteps
approaching, arose instantly, and walked from the spot. The men said
they were looking for an owl which they had heard hooting. It was
probably only my peculiar insane, half-suppressed shrieks they had
heard.
[Sidenote: _Faith-cure Tried._]
At this time I entered the following in my diary: “I am experiencing the
enslaving power of sin. I now know how to sympathize with poor sinners,
drunkards and harlots.... Do such perverse passions spring from idolatry
and forgetting God, as St. Paul says? But for several years I have lived
in communion with God. Several different times in my life I have passed
a month without conscious sin. How can this accord with the fact that I
have repeatedly in childhood and several times in youth committed the
act [fellatio] recognized by men as the most heinous of crimes?”
I soon went to my village home for the summer, where I found the
struggle against sensuality much less severe. For the first month there
I lived without conscious sin. Through occupying my mind diligently with
the high ethical ideals presented in the New Testament, and living
continually in the spirit of prayer, I was able to bar completely from
my life all the movings of the sensual nature, and all regard for self.
Indeed I lived in this state of “entire sanctification” almost
throughout the summer vacation, spending several hours a day in
religious exercises. I came into intimate relations with a Christian
faith-curist, and felt it to be my religious duty to be anointed by him
for the removal of my perverted nature and for the reception of the
normal instincts of a man. For over a month after the anointing, I
persisted in the confident belief that God had miraculously brought
about the change desired, and that I was now in full possession of the
powers of a man. But gradually I had to admit the truth that no change
had taken place.
[Sidenote: _Mourning Over Fate._]
My return to college in the fall of 1892 was followed by a decline from
the high spiritual level attained during the summer vacation, this
decline being especially marked by periods of depression, during which I
would lament to myself that I was practically, by birth, an outcast from
society, with a deformed nature, and despicable in the eyes of all
people. I felt that I was a soft effeminate man who was wanted nowhere.
At the sight of other young men rejoicing in their manly vigor, I would
exclaim, “I want to die! I want to die!”
Moreover, possible ways of gratifying my sensual desires began to haunt
me. Occasionally while walking the streets, I was powerfully constrained
to embrace every young ruffian I met. I felt that I would gladly give up
everything else in order to pass the rest of my days in the worst slums
of the city in the company of the most vicious and degraded of mankind.
At the same time I often had to sob violently while walking the streets
when I would have a mental vision of myself given up to a life of shame
in the slums, after having abandoned all my family ties in order to give
free rein to my carnal desires. Sometimes I raved and wept like a mad
man, and again I feared I might become completely insane.
About this time I came across two articles in a journal of anthropology
which treated of eunuchs. I read that there is a class of abnormal human
beings in India who are called “eunuchs by birth.” The description given
of their natures suited mine exactly. Though male in body—as stated in
the article—they are feminine in manners and tastes, always wear women’s
clothes, let their hair grow long, and keep themselves clean-shaven.
They are filles de joie, and are happy in their lot. I now recalled that
Bayard Taylor and other travellers in the east vaguely refer to them in
their books. Not until now did I know the meaning of these references.
[Sidenote: _First Reading About Abnormality._]
I now read also that males with such non-masculine and non-virile
natures are found among the tribes of American Indians, by
whom—according to the author I read—they are called “squaw-men.” At a
certain age, all the young males are called upon to choose between the
weapons of the warrior and the staff of the squaw. These non-masculine
males always choose the latter and are thenceforth looked upon as
squaws, adopting the dress and occupations of the squaw, and becoming
married to a brave. The hair that grows on their faces is plucked out as
soon as long enough to get hold of.
I read further that such a class of males were found among the ancient
Greeks, and recognized in their true character as not belonging to the
warrior and ruling sex. I now recalled that my Greek professor had
recently remarked that Phaedo had been a slave “devoted to unmentionable
uses.”
The immediate effect of this greatly increased self-knowledge was one of
my most violent fits of weeping. I felt that there was nothing which
could henceforth give me interest in life. I felt so mortified at
thinking that I was a “man-woman,” as such people are called in India.
At this time I wrote in my diary: “People see that I am an effeminate
man! an effeminate man! And one of my sisters remarked the last time I
was home that she did not like effeminate men! Who can like them? Oh it
looks as if there were no God in the world!”
* * * * *
[Sidenote: _Second Nocturnal Ramble._]
If the reader had been on Mulberry Street between Grand and Broome on an
evening in November of 1892, he would have seen meandering slowly along
from one side of the street to the other with a mincing gait, a haggard,
tired-looking, short and slender youth between eighteen and nineteen,
clad in shabby clothes, and with a skull cap on his head. As he walks
along, whenever he meets any robust, well-built young man of about his
own age, who is alone, he is seen to stop and address to him a few
words. If we had been able to follow this queer-acting individual for
the previous hour before he passed us on Mulberry street, we would have
seen him roaming about through all the streets of the then dark and
criminal 4th Ward, occasionally halting near the groups of ruffians
congregated in front of the bar-rooms, and then failing of courage to
speak, pass along.
Finally on the corner of Broome and Mulberry Streets, he addresses a
tall, muscular, splendid specimen of the adolescent [subsequently a
member of the New York police force] who continues in conversation with
him, and walks along by his side. The little adolescent takes the arm of
the big one into his own, and presses as closely as possible against
him. The spirits of the little one are visibly heightened, he appears
more lively and animated, and walks along with a quicker but extremely
nervous step. He is soon seized with a sort of ague—due to sexual
excitement—which causes his whole body to shake, and hardly permits him
to speak. If we watched closely whenever the pair passed under a shadow,
we would have seen the little one throw his arms rapturously around the
neck of his big companion, and kiss him passionately. They finally pass
out of sight down one of the dark covered alleys leading to tenements in
the rear.
[Sidenote: _The First Catch._]
When after an interval the pair again emerge, the smaller is clinging
tighter than ever to his big companion, as if afraid he might escape.
They walk a block together, and then the big fellow tries to get rid of
the little one, much against the latter’s wishes. He tells the little
fellow to go on his way, but adds, “Come round again, do yer hear?”
“I don’t know whether I shall or not. I am afraid we shall never meet
again. How it pains me to part from you!”
“What do yer call yourself, and where do yer hang out?”
“I call myself Jennie, and I work in a restaurant up on Third Avenue.
What’s your name, and where could I find you again?”
“You kin find me round on this block any time. Just ask any one fur Red
Mike.”
“Well, good-by. The Lord bless you. I never expect to see you again,
although I love you with all my heart, and would like to live with you
and be your slave.”
The two start off in opposite directions. The little fellow walks
rapidly, turns the first corner, sprints, turns another corner and
sprints, and repeats this maneuver several times, as if bent on giving
the slip to any possible follower. He finally reaches the Bowery and
takes a train uptown from the Grand Street station.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: _Recourse to Medical Professors._]
For several days following I suffered from shame and remorse. In order,
if possible, to be cured of my abnormality, I now resolved to consult a
specialist in venereal diseases, because at that time I believed my
ailment came under that head. I was led to go to Dr. Prince A. Morrow,
then the leading specialist in that line in New York City, who declared
that either castration or marriage would be a sure cure for my abnormal
passion! How many inverts have followed such advice of a physician, and
seeking a cure in marriage, have been plunged into insanity or suicide,
either on the eve of marriage, or soon after! Individuals like myself
are women mentally. How is one woman to marry another, unless indeed one
of the pair be a gynander, when marriage _de facto_ often takes place. I
could never think of tying myself to a wife until I felt myself to be a
man.
Not satisfied, I immediately consulted another medical-college
professor, this time an alienist, Dr. Robert S. Newton. Both drugs and
electrical stimulation of the brain and spinal cord were tried.
Hypnotism was attempted unsuccessfully. During the first month of
treatment, I excluded from my mind all thoughts of sexual admiration.
Then, though I continued to struggle against them, they would
occasionally be present in the stream of thought for a few days, when
with a fresh dedication of myself to God and to a life of
self-renunciation, I would again completely banish them for another
half-month.
[Sidenote: _Early Appeal for Castration._]
After several months treatment, I was rendered almost a physical and
nervous wreck by the powerful drugs administered, but my amorous desires
showed no change. I now repeatedly appealed for castration. I argued
that Nature had designed me to be a fille de joie—the worst fate
possible as I then believed—and that castration alone could save me from
it. But the answer was that I might in later years regret such a
measure. I had recently read in a medical journal of a man similarly but
not identically afflicted who was placed in possession of the normal
procreative instinct through castration. During these months I had made
diligent search at the library of the New York Academy of Medicine for
light on my abnormality, and discovered a number of articles in American
and foreign journals bearing on it.
During this course of treatment occurred one of the crises of my life. I
had been appointed a delegate to a student’s missionary convention in
another city, and was assigned to a room with a rather athletic student
from another college. The first night, after he had fallen asleep, I
left the bed and lay on the floor, but was driven back by the cold. All
possible alternatives were out of the question. Previous to that day, I
had not known how I would have to pass the night. The chances were good
that I would be assigned to a room alone, or else have an unattractive
bed-fellow inasmuch as nine out of ten religious and studious
adolescents were sexually repulsive, although highly esteemed as
friends. Possibly I was cold to them because I myself am of a religious
and studious disposition, as well as deficient in physical stamina, as
they also are inclined to be.
[Sidenote: _Usual Treatment of Inverts._]
I lay awake the whole night, but during the last half was in a sort of
delirium. I partially yielded. The next morning, before several other
students, my bed-fellow spoke sarcastically of me, evidently intending
to visit on me what he considered to be deserved punishment. I was
crushed by reason of shame, and they never saw me again, as I left by
the next train. At the time I wrote in my diary:
“What have I ever done that God should make me suffer so? I feel that my
abnormality bars me out of the ministry, the profession of my choice,
and most likely out of all other professions. I feel that this passion
is going to wreck my life, and never permit me to make any return to my
parents for all they have done for me. I have no hope for the future. In
the convention, while I would be singing, I was in thought hacking my
body to pieces with a sword, or piercing my breast with a dagger. My
continuous prayer was:
‘Father, Father, hear my humble cry,
While on others thou art smiling,
Do not pass me by!’
“The convention, to me, was a lesson in resignation. The other young men
were divinely brought there to be inspired with the Holy Spirit, to be
instructed in regard to missionary fields and methods, to be called to
preach the Gospel among those who sit in darkness; but I was brought
there to learn the lesson of resignation in affliction, to experience
the crushing to the earth by the mighty hand of God, to be tried like
Isaac to see whether I am willing to be morally slain in my youth in a
way which seems inexplicable. I have been preparing myself to become a
foreign missionary, having had this career in mind from childhood; but
God and Nature have undoubtedly destined me to be a [fille de joie].
When a child of nine or ten years, although I had not learned that there
were in the world such persons as fallen women, I often aspired to be a
young woman, and to be a fallen one at that. I have resisted my fate
with all the powers of my will and of my religious nature, but you
cannot dam Niagara.”
[Sidenote: _Rejected by Providence from Ministry._]
Not long afterwards I wrote: “Two ways open before me: one of sensual
gratification, unrighteousness, falsehood, hypocrisy, dishonor; the
other of blessing to the poor and the afflicted, a life which is holy
and worthy of the good name given to it, a life which promises to my
dear ones, on my account, more of health, happiness, and honor.”
Shortly after writing the above, I brought the course of medical
treatment to an abrupt termination. I would have continued longer if I
had shown any improvement. I had lost all faith in the physician’s
ability to benefit me. Seeing that the science of medicine held out no
hope, I felt more than ever that I was irresponsible for my abnormal
sexual nature.
* * * * *
Over five months after my previous visit, I again found myself on
Mulberry Street, corner of Grand. I have always suspected that I was
incited to this particular quest by an aphrodisiac. On or about that
day, my physician administered a new drug. He probably hoped it would
incite me to seek normal relations, but it acted along the line of my
peculiar instincts.
[Sidenote: _Year 1893—Fairie Apprenticeship Begins._]
Walking northward on the west side of the street, I encountered a mixed
group of Italian and Irish “sports” of foreign parentage between sixteen
and twenty-one years of age seated or standing around the portal of a
warehouse. I timidly addressed them: “I am looking for a friend named
Red Mike. Do any of you know him?”
One of them replied that he had just seen him up the street. Proceeding
in that direction, I stopped occasionally to make the same inquiry of
other adolescents. After walking several blocks in vain, I returned to
the “gang” at the warehouse’s portal, and asked: “Do you mind if I sit
down to rest here? I am tired and lonesome. I have not been in the city
long and don’t know any one.”
“Where did yez come from?”
“Philadelphia. I couldn’t get any work there, so I came here.”
It was not long before Red Mike happened to stroll by and recognized me
even before I did him. An hour now passed, while they smoked and drank,
hiding the beer-pail whenever a policeman went by. I had no desire to
join in the drinking and smoking, and indeed up to my middle forties,
when this autobiography goes to press, have never had any desire to
learn to smoke, although having a few times put the lighted cigarette of
a paramour in my mouth. I have always considered myself too feminine to
smoke. Moreover, all my life I have been practically a total abstainer
from alcoholic beverages.
[Sidenote: _An Evening with a “Gang.”_]
But I reclined in the arms of one after another, covering face, neck,
hands, arms, and clothing with kisses, while they caressed me and called
me pet-names. I was supremely happy. For the first time in my life I
learned about the fairie inmates of the lowest dives. They proposed to
install me in one. I told them the story of my own life, only with such
variations from the truth as were necessary for my own protection. We
sang plantation songs, “Old Black Joe,” “Uncle Ned,” etc. These they had
learned from Bixby’s “Home Songs,” published in that very neighborhood
by the well-known shoe-blacking firm as an advertisement. I sang with
them in the mock soprano or falsetto that fairies employ, trying to
imitate the voice of a woman. Singing in this voice was not a novelty to
me, as I had previously at times aped the warbling of a woman
instinctively.
At the end of an hour, we adjourned down an alley, where the drinking
and love-making continued even more intensely. After I had refused their
repeated solicitations, one of them grasped my throat tightly to prevent
any outcry and threw me down, while another removed part of my clothing,
appropriating whatever of value he found in my pockets. With my face in
the dust, and half-suffocated by the one ruffian’s tight grip on my
throat, I moaned and struggled with all my might, because of the
excruciating pain. But in their single thought to experience an animal
pleasure, they did not heed my moans and broken entreaties to spare me
the suffering they were inflicting. For two months afterward I suffered
pain at every step because of fissures and lacerations about the anus.
[Sidenote: _At Age of Nineteen._]
When finally released, terror-stricken and with only half my clothing, I
rushed out through the alley and down Mulberry Street, and did not halt
until I reached what I considered a safe refuge on brightly lighted
Grand Street. Breathless and exhausted, I seated myself on the curb. “I
am cured of my slumming,” I said to myself. “God’s will be done. It is
His hand which has brought this about, in order to drive me back to the
path of virtue. Truly the Lord ruleth in all things.”
Because of my exhausted condition, I remained seated for several
minutes. In the meantime, two of my assailants had followed me up, and
expressed their regret that one of their number had stolen my cap and
coat, promising to get them back, and assuring me of their friendly
feelings. “You are only a baby,” they said, “and so we will fight for
you and protect you.”
I was so touched by their gallantry, so enamoured of them, and so sure
that the assault was not committed through malevolence, that I
accompanied them back to our first meeting place on the warehouse steps.
I still had great fear of violence at their hands—rape, not a
beating—but I was powerfully drawn toward them. Fellatio was welcome;
pædicatio, horrible to my moral sense, and physically, accompanied by
excruciating pain. The “gang” received me kindly, petted and soothed me
as one would a peevish baby, which I resembled in my actions, fretting
and sobbing in happiness as I rested my head against their bodies. To
lie in the bosom of these sturdy young manual laborers, all of whom were
good-looking and approximately my own age, was the highest earthly
happiness I had yet tasted. With all my money gone, and cap and coat
stolen besides, I finally had to walk home, a distance of several miles.
Obtaining my keys in their hiding place, I succeeded in reaching my room
without attracting attention.
[Sidenote: _Psychical Infantilism._]
The next day I wrote in my journal: “What a strange thing is life!
Mephistopheles last night carried me through one of the experiences
through which he carried Faust.... My carnal nature was aroused as never
before. I groaned in despair. Never before in all my experience have I
seen such a conflict between the flesh and the spirit.... How like an
animal is man! Thus God has seen fit to make him.”
A few days later I again wrote: “My present psychical state is most
strange. I cannot yet repent of my conduct last Friday night, yet on the
Sunday following I had one of the happiest experiences of nearness to
God that I ever had. That afternoon I presented the Gospel in love for
my Savior and for perishing souls. I have in my heart an intense desire
to save from their lives of sin those in whose company I was Friday
night, especially my Bill, so young, and yet so deep in sin. I want to
rescue him, and make of him a strong educated champion for Christ. My
heart yearns to carry blessings and peace to all those who are suffering
in the slums of New York.”
In a letter received shortly afterward from a venerable doctor of
divinity and former pastor, whom for years I made my confidant, he
expressed his judgment of my conduct as follows: “I believe God will
overlook in you what He would not in others.”
[Sidenote: _Verdicts of Pastor and Alienist._]