as I was in large measure—my open career as a fairie now came to an end.
After I had removed permanently to a distant city, how I missed the kind
greetings which came from nearly every soldier whom I ran across on or
near the two reservations, and how I pined for them! I loved them
primarily with a Christian, non-sensual, wifely love. With my whole soul
I desired to serve them through life as their slave, but my being at the
very end of my physical endurance and an unusual economic opportunity in
a distant city induced me to say good-by forever. Farewell, a long
farewell, to my many soul-mates of both forts!
[Sidenote: _Fairie Songs._]
My songs, in a treble voice, contributed much to my popularity. The
soldiers were much diverted, eagerly grasped up the hectograph editions,
and treasured and sang them. They likewise preserved love-letters I had
written them, and stated their purpose to exhibit both songs and letters
to their friends at home when their enlistments expired. The songs
formed a large element in my fairie career, as well as describe some of
my adventures. Humans, when in love, are inspired to poetize. Some of my
own outpourings follow. The dedications are retained as in the original
hectograph editions.
[Sidenote: _A Corporal, a Private, and Me._]
(Air original.)
Dedicated to Corporal Frank B.
As I was walking on the beach,
A corporal did me see;
He said right off, “Dear Baby June,
Will you my wifie be?”
I fainted quite,
From joy, not fright,
And in his arms did fall;
I nestled there,
So free from care,
And called to him, “My all!”
As we did talk on the sandy walk,
A private came stalking by;
He said right off, “There’s Baby June,
The girl for whom I’d die!”
To see him by,
I had to cry,
I was so happy then;
Head on his blouse,
I breathed my vows
To both artillerymen.
I took their brawny hands in mine,
Then kissed till they were sore;
I slapped and slapped each soldier brave,
These mighty men of war;
For their love taps,
And playful slaps,
I also entered plea:—
Sweet words they breathed,
While me they wreathed,
Down by the murmuring sea.
[Sidenote: _Baby Crying for Her Brave._]
(Air: “Hello Central”)
Dedicated to Sergeant Frank B., handsome, strong, and noble; a brave,
brave gunner; the most popular man in his company; the favorite of his
captain; first in foot-ball; first in base-ball; and first in the heart
of Jennie June.
BABY is so sad and lonely,
Pining for her soldier brave;
Night and day, awake or sleeping,
Crieth for him, e’en doth rave:
O to rest upon his bosom,
In his blouse her face to hide!
O to feel his strong arms round her!
Why this bliss denied?
Refrain:
Baby’s dying, naught can save her,
Pining for her brave;
Naught can save but his caresses,
For which she doth rave:
O come quick, dear soldier hero,
Clasp her to thy breast;
For she’s surely pining, dying,
In thine arms to rest.
Were she able, surely would she
Hasten quick to reach thy side;
To thee knit, cemented, mortised,
Would she e’er henceforth abide:
Clinging, O so fast and closely,
Would she lose herself in thee;
No more two, but ever, always,
With thee ONE to be.
[Sidenote: _My Fierce Murphy._[6]]
Footnote 6:
A substitute is here used for the real name of the soldier.
(Air: “My Bonnie Lies Over The Ocean.”)
THE night I first met my fierce Murphy,
He punched me and kicked me and stoned;
He sent me away all in tatters,
I screamed and I wept and I moaned.
But I loved him, I loved him,
I loved him more than I can tell, can tell!
I loved him, I loved him,
I loved him more than I can tell!
He was the next time even fiercer,
He snatched me up, threw me outside;
But while I was held in his clutches,
My face in his blouse I did hide.
I loved him, I loved him,
That moment I was in his arms, strong arms!
I loved him, I loved him,
That moment I was in his arms!
The third time he said he’d me marry,
This wonderful, wonderful brave!
I then was so robbed of my reason,
I nothing did but for him rave.
I loved him, I loved him,
I nothing did but for him rave—yes, rave!
I loved him, I loved him,
I nothing did but for him rave!
I’m dying, I’m dying, I’m dying,
For love of this wonderful brave;
I’m dying, I’m dying, I’m dying—
Will he not show mercy and save?
Dying—dying—
I see yawn for me the dark grave, dread grave!
Dying—dying—
Will he not show mercy and save?
[Sidenote: _Wild Arthur McCann._[7]]
Footnote 7:
The soldier gave me this name, later found to be fictitious. “Blanco”
is here inserted in place of the real name of the fort.
(Air: “Sweet Rosy O’Grady”)
O DOWN at Blanco fort, that overlooks the deep blue sea,
I found a big ferocious brave on guard the other day;
His name is Art McCann, and O, I don’t mind telling thee,
That he’s the wildest fiercest Art—that’s ever come my way.
Refrain:
Wild Arthur McCann—
He’s stolen my heart!
O what a fierce man
Is this big strong Art!
I say he looks fierce—
Fierce, fierce is his face;
I love wild Arthur McCann—
In my heart he holds the first place.
He’s not afraid of anything, a man more than the rest;
A man that is a man, enlists, and fights, yea valiantly;
A man in blue!—Red color too is seen upon his breast!
The strong, the mighty brave, who fights!—who is all boy, all he.
Wild, wild, wild, wild!—I could him kiss forever and a day;
Strong, strong, strong, strong!—I do adore prostrate upon the ground;
Brave, brave, brave, brave!—I will him praise and every homage pay;
Fierce, fierce, fierce, fierce!—I would it tell—in all the world
around.
[Sidenote: _The Night on the Hillside._]
(Air: “Old Oaken Bucket.”)
Dedicated to J. F. M.
How dear to my heart is the night on that hillside,
Where we, my dear warrior, did first our love show;
When I on your breast did contentedly nestle,
While we as two lovers did whisper so low:
How charming you looked in your blue and brass buttons,
Your belt and your military cap and your part;
Bewitching you were as you put your arms round me,
And called me your wife and your baby sweetheart.
Refrain:
Your baby girl pines for you, sighs for you, cries for you,
Moans, shrieks, and dies for you, soldier in blue.
I’ll always remember that night on the hillside,
E’en if, my dear warrior, we ne’er meet again;
E’en though I have many brave beautiful sweethearts,
You never, ah never, shall drop from my ken:
I’ll think of you darling—yes pray for you ever,
As long as I live on God’s beautiful earth;
God gave you to me as a husband so tender,
You’re mine now forever, so much to me worth!
[Sidenote: _A Man that is a Man._]
(Air: “The Last Rose of Summer.”)
Dedicated to “Curly.”
’Tis a soldier I’m praising,
So big and so strong;
The most manly, yet tender,
That e’er I did song:
Oh people, you know not
The gem that he is!
How can I sing to you
What virtues are his!
To fight for his country,
He shoulders a gun;
He fears not the bullets,
Their whistle’s but fun:
Though others might waver
In battle’s uproar,
My boy shows the hero,
A born man of war.
He’s the pride of his country,
A most mighty brave;
We have fear of no nation,
We trust him to save:
With fear he and his fellows
The nations inspire;
For they shine out as warriors
Of might and of fire.
Though a man of such power,
He uses it alone
In causes that are righteous,
And ne’er in his own:
He can spare and can punish—
A man of such might!—
But is kind-hearted and gentle,
Acts ever aright.
He’s so kind to the outcast,
To me whom all curse;
A big heart, sympathetic,
That never thinks worse
Than to speak kindly words out
To whome’er he meets,
And assist any sufferer,
As he stalks through the streets.
And he takes with the maidens?
They fall at his feet;
They just worship his manhood,
As master him greet:
O yes he is all glorious,
In girls’ eyes all fair;
His own baby girl boasteth
His charms, yes, for e’er!
[Sidenote: _The Aughty-Aughth for Mine._[8]]
Footnote 8:
The expression “aughty-aughth” is here used in order to spare the
company notoriety.
(Air: “Wearing of the Green.”)
OH here’s to the aughty-aughth company, the finest to my mind,
The bravest boys in blue and red that I did ever find;
Of all the sweethearts I have met, they are of all most kind,
In every glory you can name, they have the rest outshined.
Refrain:
They’re the finest warriors in the land, in all the world most fine;
The aughty-aughth for my sweetheart, the aughty-aughth for mine.
They are a model band of men, the only such to find,
Beyond belief fraternal love rules every heart and mind;
They live as brothers in the fort, no brawl, or words malign,
So brave, polite, magnanimous, surprisingly benign.
Oh noble hearts, oh manly souls, oh men who were born for war,
Who’re ready at your country’s call to shed your blood and gore;
Who’re ready to protect the weak, and to relieve the oppressed,
All that’s feminine would worship you, fall in your arms to rest.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: _Adventures with Men of Ft. Z._]
When the five companies of Ft. X went south, the “aughty-aughth” of Ft.
Z acted as guard of Ft. X. On the evening of May 3d I scraped
acquaintance. Coming upon a group, I talked and acted more and more like
a coquette, greatly to their amusement. I finally started singing my
songs, which caused soldiers to gather from every direction, as we were
on the reservation. Never before had I received a warmer reception, and
I immediately wrote “The Aughty-Aughth for Mine.” Contrary to my custom,
I was attracted from the city twice a week.
On my sixth visit, there came, suddenly and unexpectedly, a change in
their attitude. It came about through a soldier’s going over to New York
to play the spy. It was the first time in my six years of frequenting
the forts. He secured a hold on me through the address which I used in
corresponding with soldiers. I had revealed my true name and residence
to none of them. Hitherto they had believed I was a nobody, but now
discovered that I occupied a fairly high social status. This changed
everything. The thirst for money supplanted the desire for a good time
with me. Many now felt that they had a grievance because I being well
off—as they thought—made them only small presents. They now began to
demand that I deliver comparatively large sums, and inflicted suffering
when I did not. I gladly gave them all I could—about one-quarter of my
income.
After several moderate beatings on the military reservation because I
did not hand over the exorbitant amounts demanded, I decided not to
enter it again while this company was in charge. They had never dared
assault me off the reservation, fearing arrest by the police. On June 3d
I was inveigled on in order to be brutally assaulted. The next day I
complained in writing to the lieutenant commanding the company. He wrote
asking me to call. He immediately laid before me several love letters
and songs, of the kind known to my reader, and inquired if I was their
author. On my confession, he refused to hear a word about the assault,
and sternly warned me never to come on the reservation again. He then
ordered my chief assailant to march me off ignominiously, as if I had
been under arrest.
[Sidenote: _Events of 1905._]
Several days later I spent the evening at a resort frequented by
soldiers. Many flirted with me, but though repeatedly asked to take a
walk, I was afraid to trust myself with any after the serious assault.
About 10 P. M., I encountered Sergeant J., who had always been
exceedingly kind and twice had let me pass the evening flirting with the
soldiers awaiting duty in the guard-house. I therefore entertained not
the least suspicion of treachery and accepted his invitation for a walk.
His conduct was of an inflammatory character, and I followed him over a
fence into a field, which happened to belong to the federal government,
but at the time I gave this fact no thought. The police and the courts
had no jurisdiction there. He immediately said: “Do you know you are on
the military reservation? What did the commandant tell you would happen
if you came on it again?... Sergeant W. told me that you told the
commandant in his presence that I was the best friend you had in the
post. I am now going to show you different.” [I had simply referred to
him as “a certain sergeant” who had given me the freedom of the
guard-house.]
[Sidenote: _At Age of Thirty-One._]
Corporal F., a regular Samson, had been following at a distance.
Sergeant J. was just about to be appointed quarter-master sergeant of
Ft. Z. Not wishing any charges to imperil his promotion, he had asked
his friend F. to inflict the punishment, as the latter’s enlistment
would expire in three weeks. But the latter had his own grievance also.
Two weeks before he and two other soldiers had been torturing me because
I had not brought them the sums of money demanded. In order to
deliberate without my hearing them as to the next step to take in
persecuting me, they had ordered me to run 200 feet to a sharp corner in
the path and back again. But I ran a dozen feet around the corner and
threw myself in the tall grass. A stone wall too high to climb prevented
my getting more than three feet from the path. Because the path was so
hedged in, they knew that I could not escape them, and besides we were
on the reservation and a sentry was permanently stationed 500 feet
around the corner who would surely halt a fugitive. The three
immediately sprinted past. In the pitch darkness and with eyes fixed on
a point 200 feet ahead where I ought to be, they failed to spy me at
their very feet. I immediately arose and sprinted in the opposite
direction. In less than a minute I ran into a sentry, but he happened to
be a friend and helped me to escape.
On this subsequent evening when I was with Sergeant J., Corporal F. had
his first opportunity to avenge my escape. I saw the Samson draw back
his fist and covered my face with my hands. But they compelled me to
drop them, and I received in the left eye a terrific blow. Five followed
on the mouth, nose, and left eye. The right eye seemingly was purposely
spared so that I could see to get away. Then my pockets were rifled. I
happened to raise a hand to the left eye and felt just below where the
eye ought to be a circular protuberance about the size of the eyeball.
In my dazed condition I entreated: “Please, please, let this be enough!
Don’t you see you have already knocked one of my eyes out of its
socket?”
[Sidenote: _I Am Half-Murdered._]
They now commanded me to turn my back, apparently being convinced my
face could stand no more sledge-hammer blows without a murder resulting.
The corporal landed several on the skull, and being evidently a
congenital criminal, would have probably kept on until I was dead. The
sergeant ordered him to desist, but he would not. The sergeant now had
to throw himself on the corporal and hold him from me, while he directed
me to hurry off the reservation.[9]
Footnote 9:
Some years ago the newspapers told of the killing of an androgyne in
Boston by soldier associates.
Reaching a street, I appealed to some civilians, who assisted me to a
hospital. For a half hour my face bled profusely and my clothing became
soaked with blood. For weeks afterward blood exuded from the nose. My
face was all discolored and swollen beyond recognition. As already
stated, a former physician, whom I had met intimately several score of
times, happened to be a visiting physician at this hospital, and was one
of those who attended me as I lay in bed. But my extreme disfigurement
prevented recognition, much to my satisfaction, since I had never had
occasion to disclose my inversion.
For a month, until my face became presentable, I had to remain away from
my ordinary circle. A full description of my injuries was written out by
my regular physician to accompany the charges presented several days
after the assault to the general commanding the military Department of
the East, Governor’s Island, New York Harbor. I had to go so high
because the temporary commandant at Ft. X was among those accused, that
is, for not giving me a hearing when I sought to bring charges against
earlier assailants.
I immediately visited the United States district attorney also, thinking
my case lay in his province. But he dismissed me after merely remarking
that according to law, he could only be on the side of the soldiers and
against me. I next went to the police station in whose precinct the fort
was situated. I was here received with warm sympathy, notwithstanding
that at the outset I declared myself an invert. But I was informed that
since all the offences had been committed on the military reservation,
the police and civil courts had no jurisdiction. News of the assault had
got into the papers, and a police detective had made an investigation.
Both the detective and the police sergeant told me that the commandant
of the fort had informed them that I had been assaulted because I had
indecently accosted my assailants.
[Sidenote: _I Am Courtmartialled._]
The military secretary at Governor’s Island appointed Col. G. to
investigate my charges. In the course of the hearing, which lasted about
three hours, I appeared to be the one under charges, and was repeatedly
insulted by the captain adjutant and the temporary commandant. At its
close the latter cried out: “The police are waiting to arrest you as
soon as you step off the reservation!” This statement proved to be
false. But they succeeded in literally frightening me out of my wits.
For the following 24 hours, I had repeated attacks of hysteria, and was
actually insane from grief. My mourning lasted for months, because
notwithstanding my repeated importuning in person and by letter, they
refused to courtmartial or punish those who had half-murdered me. The
reason was that I had the reputation of being addicted to fellatio.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: _Fellatio Obsession Declines._]
Approximately two years after castration and one year previous to the
close of my open career as a fairie—at which latter date this
autobiography has now arrived—I found that my desire for fellatio had
perceptibly decreased. In all probability, it was due to that operation,
but possibly to satiety or to advancing age, then thirty. Up to about
two years after castration I did not pass by a single opportunity except
when exhausted. But now I began to reject a large proportion of the
opportunities, although I had as strong a craze as ever for association
with ultra-virile adolescents who treated me as a member of the gentle
sex. I seemed now to be satisfied with simply reclining in their arms,
etc. Sometimes during fellatio, I would feel no satisfaction and ask
myself why I should stoop to it. If at the beginning of my career as a
fairie, my desire had been only of the present strength, I would
probably have lived a life of chastity and carried out my plan to be a
preacher of the Gospel. The strength of desire was now about that of the
average male of thirty—strong, but controllable. For about a year,
however, I did not relinquish the open career of a fairie because
circumstances had placed me in a remarkably seductive environment. I was
also influenced by the desire to make the most of my youth—for at
thirty-one I was told that I looked to be twenty-one. A quasi-public
fairie career must end before youthfulness passes. I had in advance
reconciled myself to semi-chastity, as monandry, after I should pass the
age of thirty. As already stated, the saving of my physical and mental
vigor was a powerful motive in my weaning. Most of all, my being nearly
murdered by soldiers contributed to enabling me to break away from my
intimate association with them at the forts. In previous years I had
rejected excellent positions because they would take me out of New York
and thus put a stop to my visits to the forts. Now in 1905, a few weeks
after my disaster at the hands of men of Ft. Z, I was for the first time
able to leave New York permanently.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: _Year 1905—Open Career Ends._]
One morning at the close of my association with the men of Ft. Z, I
discovered a chancre on the under surface of my tongue. “At last a
chancre!” I exclaimed with a slight laugh. It lasted six weeks.
Simultaneously at two points the gum of the upper jaw became as hard as
bone. Beginning two months later, I would every few minutes during the
day for about a month feel a pleasurable thrill in different parts of
the body, now in the arm, now in the leg, etc. Four months after the
appearance of the primary sore, a second chancre appeared on the under
surface of the tongue, only slightly painful, and lasting three weeks.
During this time I felt rather ill. It left a small furrow in the
tongue, which did not disappear for three years. Simultaneously with the
appearance of this second chancre, the skin in the right and left groin,
alternately, became very tender, so that in walking the two abutting
surfaces would wear each other away. Walking became painful. A
disgusting odor was emitted, but daily bathing enabled me to continue my
vocation uninterruptedly. Matter exuded from the under surface of the
eyelids. I was unable to focus my eyes properly, and sometimes saw
double. I suffered from general debility.
[Sidenote: _How Syphilis Affected Me._]
I was in despair, regarding myself as at last rotting away with syphilis
and perhaps destined to spend decades in a cell in some insane asylum.
But I thank a merciful Providence that the state just described lasted
little more than two weeks. The abrasion of the skin in the groin alone
failed to disappear, but I soon found—on my physician’s suggestion—that
smearing a little vaseline after each bath prevented all trouble. This
precaution has been necessary the bulk of the time subsequently up to
this autobiography’s going to press (1918).
Before the end of the second year after inoculation, I suffered from two
more chancres on the tongue, which did not permanently destroy any
tissue. On two other occasions the tongue became considerably swollen
without any visible sore, occasioning some difficulty in speaking.
Fourteen months after inoculation four bright copper-colored mole-like
spots appeared on the face. The color changed to a dull brown, and they
have thus remained a permanent part of me. On several occasions, my body
and limbs were dotted with a syphilitic rash, horrifying to see, but
disappearing in a week or two and causing no pain or inconvenience.
[Sidenote: _Tertiary Syphilis._]
During the third and fourth year after inoculation, I suffered slightly
from “gray patches” on the tongue, swelling of glands in the face and
neck, and quite serious syphilitic affections of the lungs and stomach.
For several years now I had to use potassium iodide extensively, and
with good results. Earlier I had taken only 500 ⅛-grain protiodide
pills.
From the fifth to the ninth year after inoculation, there were no
symptoms except the abrasion of the groin. For the first nine years, the
aggregate amount of suffering caused me by syphilis was approximately
equivalent to two five-day attacks of influenza (the “grip”), from which
disease I have repeatedly suffered. I am of the opinion that the peril
to the human race from syphilis is greatly exaggerated by specialists in
venereal diseases. There is little danger from the disease if one
totally abstains from alcohol, and possibly tobacco and other narcotics.
But the most serious outbreaks came in the tenth and eleventh years. I
awoke one morning to find a small set of muscles paralyzed as a result
of a cerebral tumor. The paralysis lasted three months, but these
muscles were not entirely restored to normal for two years following. I
had simply used potassium iodide in large doses.
Just about twelve months later, I again awoke one morning to find
another small set of muscles paralyzed. I immediately received one
intravenous injection of salvarsan, and the paralysis practically
disappeared a week later. I was disinclined to receive further
injections as long as suffering from no serious outbreak. I however kept
my system steeped in potassium iodide for several months following.
[Sidenote: _No Alcohol, No Syphilis._]
Each attack of paralysis came at the close of one of the only two
periods of my life when I have consumed large quantities of temperance
beers (sarsaparilla and root beer), from two to three pints a day. The
small amounts of alcohol steadily imbibed apparently brought on the
serious outbreaks. Furthermore, both came at the height of the grape
season, which fruit, up to the second paralysis, I have always consumed
in large quantities. In my case, practically all the serious outbreaks
of syphilis came during the grape season.
In the tenth year after inoculation, I was for an entire winter the most
crippled person daily mingling with the New York crowds. The rheumatism
never troubled me before or since. It immediately succeeded the first
paralysis. Rheumatism remedies proved entirely ineffective.