Chapter 14

My Fierce Murphy.[6]

6.A substitute is here used for the real name of the soldier.

(Air: “My Bonnie Lies Over The Ocean.”)

Thenight 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?

Thenight 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!

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!

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?

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?

Wild Arthur McCann.[7]

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 downat 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 manIs 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.

O downat 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 manIs 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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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!

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!

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 notThe gem that he is!How can I sing to youWhat 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 waverIn 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 fellowsThe nations inspire;For they shine out as warriorsOf might and of fire.Though a man of such power,He uses it aloneIn 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 worseThan to speak kindly words outTo 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 boastethHis charms, yes, for e’er!

’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 notThe gem that he is!How can I sing to youWhat virtues are his!

’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 waverIn battle’s uproar,My boy shows the hero,A born man of war.

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 fellowsThe nations inspire;For they shine out as warriorsOf might and of fire.

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 aloneIn 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.

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 worseThan to speak kindly words outTo whome’er he meets,And assist any sufferer,As he stalks through the streets.

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 boastethHis charms, yes, for e’er!

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!

The Aughty-Aughth for Mine.[8]

8.The expression “aughty-aughth” is here used in order to spare the company notoriety.

(Air: “Wearing of the Green.”)

Ohhere’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.

Ohhere’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’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.

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.

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.

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 assaultme 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.

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 10p. 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.]

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 coveredmy 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?”

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]

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 disfigurementprevented 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.

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.

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 ofthirty—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.

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.

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 tosee, but disappearing in a week or two and causing no pain or inconvenience.

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 aslong as suffering from no serious outbreak. I however kept my system steeped in potassium iodide for several months following.

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.

Subsequently to the second paralysis, for the thirty months up to this book’s going to press, I have totally abstained from all drinks containing even a trifling percentage of alcohol, as well as from grapes and unfermented grape products. During these months I have experienced no outbreak beyond the abrasion in the groin if not kept lubricated with vaseline. More than ever I am convinced of the truth of the maxim: No alcohol, no syphilis.

The Author at Thirty-four.

As already indicated, three years after castration, my open (i.e., quasi-public) career as a fairie came to an end through my removal to a distant small city where such a career incognito would be impossible. I also now considered myself past the age for such a career, being in my thirty-second year. My suffering from practically total abstinence was now slight compared with earlier periods of isolation, and only such as multitudes of normal individuals endure whom the rules of society compel to celibacy. I no longer lost my self-control, nor was driven into the poor quarters to make a quest under the most unfavorable and hazardous conditions.

Year 1907—Alone in Rockies’ Wilds.

In 1907 I had occasion to make a trip in an uninhabited region. My adolescent companions, who had spent a large part of their lives in the wilds of the Rocky Mountains, had prostitutes as the main subject of their conversation. The first hour of our travels, they recognized my inversion, began to refer to me in my hearing as “that ——,” and otherwise made it so disagreeable that I would have abandoned the travelling camp if it had been possible.... I tasted such depths of sorrow as not a human being out of a million ever tastes. One evening in particular I wandered off alone in the woods until out of hearing of the camp, though I actually saw that night several bears roaming within a hundred feet. I had a violent desire to die, and did not fear being torn to pieces. Continuously for about an hour, I wailed at the top of my voice over my terrible lot in life, that of a despised, hated, and outlawed degenerate, and over the possibly impending unfathomable disgrace among a party of men from whom I could not at present get away.

Not until after my thirty-third birthday did I attempt coitus cum puella. Up to this time the very thought wastoo repulsive. This aversion had now in large part passed away, although I had not the slightest inclination. I looked upon it merely as a scientific experiment. Though castration has always been without effect on orgasm when in juxtaposition cum viris, it was now impossible, notwithstanding my companion’s manustupration and my own concentration of thoughts on fellatio with my idols. Penetration was of course impossible.

Coitus cum Puella Impossible.

In 1907 I removed to a city of several hundred thousand inhabitants. As I frequently felt a sense of utter loneliness and melancholia during my two years of practical sexual isolation—for I never indulged in even flirtation with adolescents of my every-day circle—I decided to seek a mate at a military post a few miles from the city. I still longed for a mate to the same degree as the average normal individual.

I had several hundred to choose from, and selected the most attractive, a six-foot, curly-haired, large-boned, blonde athlete of twenty years. I easily scraped acquaintance, and thereafter visited him at the fort three evenings a month, but fellatio occurred at hardly more than one-half of our meetings, chiefly because I did not wish to be intellectually dull the next day or two. The most beautiful sight that I ever saw was this adolescent when accoutered to stand guard. I found that he was by far the most tattooed person that I had ever associated with—for me a great attraction. I also found that he possessed the most charming personality, always treating me most affably notwithstanding that I represented myself—as asafeguard against possible blackmail—as occupying a far lower station in life than the actual. At almost our first meeting I determined to adopt him as my “kiddo-son” (combination of son and consort). For the first time, I now, at the age of thirty-three, regarded my particular friend in the son-relation rather than in the husband-relation. But I secretly looked upon him as my husband. Relations were, however, not entirely monandrous, as he brought several of his comrades on our walks.

First “Adopted Son.”

Not until after sixteen months of occasional association at the fort did I reveal my true name and status, having found that he was entirely trustworthy. He now regularly visited my home, and continued to manifest a most beautiful and accommodating disposition. He was my jewel—the chief thing to me in life. When his second enlistment expired, he was to come and live with me as my “son.”

In 1914 business took me back to New York. My “son’s” enlistment was soon to expire, and he was to join me there. I had no thought of renewing my visits to Forts X and Y, because practically all the soldiers serve only three years and my friends had doubtless all left. Besides I had become too old (40, though looking to be below 30) for romantic adventures, and my desire for female-impersonation had become comparatively weak.

In due time, my “son” came to make his home with me. We shared a pleasant and refined apartment. I had at last obtained an almost life-long desire—to live with an adored young man as his mate. I told him that whenever he was ready, I expected him to bring a wife to our home, and I was to continue to live with them as aparent. I hoped that occasional fellatio would continue unbeknown to the wife. I also told him that his offspring would be to me the same as if they were my own.

Year 1914—At Age of Forty.

But within a few days after we were settled, he, much to my surprise, forbade me to touch him, and insisted that we sleep in separate rooms. My grief was intense. As many as a hundred times a day as I sat in my office or in my home, I had to wipe the tears out of my eyes. Finally he yielded to my tears, and promised that one hour each week I could get close to him, and that all love-making must be confined to that one hour. But I kept an accurate account, and the period averaged only thirty-six minutes a week. I had continually to beg and weep for that morsel of time. I was presenting gift after gift, mostly cash. For every gift, I received a kick—figuratively. He told me that he stayed with me for the six months just for what he could get out of me. He said he could never think of admitting to the bonds of friendship a person abnormal sexually. He would stay in the same room with me an aggregate of only about three hours a week, although I was pining for his mere presence.

He permitted fellatio three times a month, but much preferred the normal with a fille de joie, with whom he spent one night each week, and on whom he spent practically all his money. He stated that he was averse to fellatio because he wished to save all his vita sexualis for the filles.

With the exception of the half-year following my expulsion from the university, this half-year was the most unhappy of my life. The three hours a week that we saw each other were mostly spent in his scolding me and myweeping almost continuously. He would say that he hated the sight of me. Tears were generally running down my cheeks even during fellatio. He had broken my heart by proving to be a traitor to our friendship. But my devotion was not at all lessened. After six months he deserted my home—as stunning a blow as the death of a brother.

“Son” Breaks My Heart.

But I pursued him and through cash induced him to call on me twice a month for the following two years, when he removed from New York. Several months after he deserted my home, he showed repentance for the way he had treated me while living there. He became as winsome and accommodating as ever, but did not care to live with me again. He said that he could not stand my continual petting. He gave as the reason for his change from winsomeness to an extremely cruel attitude the influence of a boon companion in the army, who, after expiration of enlistment, also took up his residence in New York and continued to be a chum and a frequent visitor at our home. This companion was one of the few adolescents who feel an intense and incurable antipathy for an effeminate male, and continually sought to poison my “son’s” mind against me, and persuade him to have nothing to do with me.

During the summer of 1916, when my “son” left New York, I became anxious to be possessed of a second. Four evenings were spent hunting in small parks where poor adolescents were accustomed to sit. As I searched I prayed the Heavenly Father to send a suitable adolescent to become my “son.” I still shrank from betraying my androgynism to any adolescent of my every-day circle. Idesired to reveal it to some brand-new acquaintance among manual laborers, associate with him a few months incognito, and then, if he proved worthy of trust, reveal my identity. Not until the fourth evening did I run across a cleanly good-looking adolescent seated alone—a khaki-clad soldier, my ideal both in respect to type of manhood and in respect to apparel. I immediately entered into conversation. He confided that he was penniless and was spending the evening in the park with the hope that a passive invert would come along and provide him with money. I found him an ideal companion for an androgyne. He had also served an enlistment in the navy, thus uniting the two characters, soldier and blue-jacket, which I have always gone wild over.

Second “Adopted Son.”

After an acquaintance ofonly one hour, because I found him uniquely acceptable, and because he had to leave the following morning for the Mexican border, the agreement was made that he was to be my “adopted son” and come to live with me when his enlistment expired. At the same time I gave him my true name and address.

In the late fall his enlistment expired, and he returned to New York to live with me. The indications that he would prove to be an ideal adolescent to share the apartment of an androgyne more than came true. He was always good-natured and respectful. But he had had no moral training and was an extreme dipsomaniac. He was the illegitimate son of a mistress of a house of ill fame. I did my best to reform him. He would carry away my personal belongings to exchange for whiskey. He refused to work, depending entirely on me for his support.

My Home is Burglarized.

One evening after we had lived together a month, I returned from work to find my apartment in the condition in which burglars would have left it, locked closets and drawers broken open, and their contents scattered around. All small objects of some value which could readily be pawned were missing. Particularly the carbon duplicate of this autobiography, the ink original having been sent to Berlin three years before and not heard from since on account of the war. I found the following note:

“Dear friend Ralph,

My friend over in Jersey City told me to do this what I have done. He may come over to see you tonight or soon, for he says I am doing wrong. He tells me you will get ten years for what you have done. I was drunk when I told him.”

I hardly slept that night. It was primarily a wife’s sorrow over desertion by an idolized husband, and secondarily the overwhelming fear of blackmail or else of disclosure with consequent loss of economic and social position. Moreover, I momentarily expected that the Jersey City friend—a former soldier—would call, possibly in order to put me under arrest. I kept my apartment in darkness the entire evening as I lay on my bed immersed in the deepest grief. My only utterance was, over and over again: “The Lord hath given, and the Lord hath taken away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.”

The following evening I was amazed at learning that the manuscript of this autobiography had been returned byparcels post. The package had been inadvertently opened by my landlord, and I therefore decided to confessmy androgynism. Moreover, on account of the expected call from criminally-minded blackmailers, it was desirable to appeal to him for protection. His marvellous and hardly expected sympathy greatly relieved my distress. I proposed vacating his house, but he would not hear of it.

Year 1917.

The next evening I was amazed at receiving by messenger a letter from my boy to come at once to his succor. I found him in a terrible plight, recovering from a spree. His “pal” had kicked him out of his home as soon as the money was gone received for my belongings. Blackmail and a ransom for my manuscript had been planned, but relinquished when they had skimmed the story of my life. My “son” had only discovered its existence after he broke the lock where it was in storage. I would have immediately taken him back into my home, but my landlord refused to let a thief and a drunkard into the house again. I supported him for another month, but as he rendered me almost continuously unhappy, I then put him on a train bound for his Illinois home.

To those who have not arrived at a correct estimate of androgynism, I state that if he had continued to live with me as my son, his life would have been enriched along all lines, in particular morally and religiously. In practically every act of my life, I have been guided by the highest moral and religious ideals. Outside of sexual delinquencies, my life has been entirely offenceless. An androgyne, even when living out his nature, can attain the same ethical and religious heights as any other individual.

The Author at Forty-four.

Arrived in my 45th year and at practically the close of my vita sexualis, my advice to the youthful invert just embarking on the journey of life is not to be disheartened over his fate. Nature, as in my own case, will bestow compensating boons for her harshness in this one respect. If instinct is strong, it is advisable to follow it in moderation. But it should hold only a secondary place in life. It should be remembered that Nature exacts a penalty in the shape of impaired vigor of mind and body for practically every sexual indulgence—and perhaps as much of the normally sexed as of her stepchildren, the congenitally abnormal. Consider whether indulgence is worth the cost in health.

In My 45th Year.

Comparing in 1918 my sexual lot with that of the normal male, I feel that in the matter of the vita sexualis, Nature has been kind to me. She has compensated me for the unusual amount of suffering bound up with the life of the outcast androgyne.

Comparing my sexual lot with that of the normal woman who bears children, I feel of course that she stands on a much higher plane. Her functioning has an exalted end, the perpetuation of the race, and is attended with infinitely more self-sacrifice than is the androgyne’s.

Why does Nature make approximately one out of every 300 physical males an androgyne or passive invert? The practice of the ancient Romans, as well as my own experience and that of other androgynes whom I have known, suggests the answer. All patrician fathers of ancient Rome provided androgyne slaves as concubines of their adolescent sons. Marriage with a woman put an absolute end to these relations. In the case of myself and my androgyne acquaintances, practically no man beyond the age of 26 ever sought or permitted relations. The functionappears to be to fill in the period between the arrival at puberty and the arrival at the age when it is possible to beget unblemished offspring. With the ultra-virile adolescent, it is often a choice between solitary onanism and androgynous relations.

Year 1918.

As this autobiography goes to press in my 45th year, my health is unchanged from what it has been since castration at the age of 28. I am rather feeble, almost a semi-invalid, averaging two days a week when I am in a state of mental and physical collapse. I am, however, an unusually hard worker in my profession during my comparatively well intervals. I have achieved the average business success that comes to university graduates notwithstanding my semi-invalidism and effeminacy. Particularly business has caused me to mingle intimately to a large extent with the very highest class of society, just as my lot has been to mingle intimately and to a large extent with those at the very bottom of the social scale.

As to my personal appearance in my middle forties, my youthfulness is still often commented upon. Recently a new acquaintance, twelve years younger than myself, remarked that he would have taken me, “as for the oldest possible, for twelve years younger than” I really am. I am inclined to think that preservation of a youthful appearance down to middle life is a common characteristic of androgynes. As they are affected more or less with psychical infantilism, this mental trait is likely thus to betray itself somewhat in the physical form. An adult androgyne of my acquaintance has conspicuously the form of skull and face of an infant. Another androgyne acquaintance appears at fifty-five to be under thirty whenviewed from a distance of forty feet, but close by his face is seen to be covered with very fine wrinkles such as appear in the face of an ordinary individual only when past the age of eighty.

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