breathedout: Reading in the bath (reading)
Perhaps the history of the errors of mankind, all things considered, is more valuable and interesting than that of their discoveries. Truth is uniform and narrow; it constantly exists, and does not seem to require so much an active energy, as a passive aptitude of soul in order to encounter it. But error is endlessly diversified; it has no reality, but is the pure and simple creation of the mind that invents it. In this field the soul has room enough to expand herself, to display all her boundless faculties, and all her beautiful and interesting extravagancies and absurdities.


Report of Dr. Benjamin Franklin, and other commissioners, charged by the King of France, with the examination of the animal magnetism, as now practised at Paris (1785), via Urte Laukaityte's "Mesmerising Science: The Franklin Commission and the Modern Clinical Trial" at The Public Domain Review

The whole article is hilarious and fascinating (who doesn't love a good chuckle at the antics of the 18th-century Mesmerists?), but I was particularly struck by Laukaityte's closing quotation: not a sentiment one expects to find in the report from the scientific commission that pioneered the single-blind clinical trial!
breathedout: recoiling in horror in a library (horrified)
Y'all I have to go to work, but: just discovered Georgian "eye minature" jewelry while poking around for fiction research, and needed to share the weirdness in case you were not aware:



Disembodied body parts sadly spying on you, SO ROMANTIC! I thought for SURE this would be a Victorian trend due to the extreme creepiness factor, but no, apparently it's earlier. Yikesy, guys.

Edit: Here's a fascinating Atlas Obscura article about these trinkets: apparently the fad caught on in England due to the future George IV exchanging them with his illegitimate mistress/bride, Maria Fitzherbert. And although the height of the trend was earlier, Victoria (predictably) did apparently commission some of these. Thanks [personal profile] chestnut_pod for the tip!
breathedout: Portrait of breathedout by Leontine Greenberg (bathtime)
Although social sanction [around romantic friendships between unmarried women] made it easy for her to enter into intense friendships with the women she met while teaching, something about Charity troubled onlookers as those intimacies developed. Within months of her arrival in each town where she taught, Charity became the subject of vicious gossip.

The rumors about Charity likely concerned her sexual propriety. [… They] appear to have been tied to Charity’s masculine demeanor and her relationships with other women Far from a coquette, Charity dressed with a notable lack of adornment and avoided superficial chatter. Her appearance struck some who knew her as mannish. She did not wear her hair short or have her garments tailored like a man’s, as the independently wealthy Anne Lister did. Charity strove to preserve the feminine respectability that secured her teaching positions, but she still managed to convey a certain masculinity. [Her friend] Lydia commented more than once on Charity’s resemblance to her brother Peter both in “countenance” and “motions.”

Eighteenth-century culture regarded masculine women with deep suspicion. Social critics often attacked outspoken women as mannish in order to silence them. English satirists depicted American “daughters of liberty” during the Revolutionary era as mannish-looking. […] Underlying this hostility was the strong association between female masculinity and lesbianism, although eighteenth-century writers would not have used this term. Instead they might refer to sex between women as “tribadism,” another classically derived term, directed against mannish women, who supposedly used their oversized clitorises to rub against, or even penetrate other women. A woman who cultivated her masculine charms could be seen as hoping to attract a female lover. […]

Charity’s emerging identity as a single woman tipped the scales against her. Like mannish women, spinsters were objects of derision in eighteenth-century America, especially in family-oriented New England. As Charity advanced through her early twenties without entering into courtships with men, her single status became more notable. Again, she stood at the vanguard of a tremendous shift in American culture. During the colonial period, no more than 2 or 3 percent of women remained unmarried for life, but after the Revolution an increasing number of women, like Charity, began to choose singlehood in order to preserve their autonomy. As rates of female singlehood surpassed 10 percent in the antebellum era, new suspicions about spinsters emerged, including a recognition of their affinity to lesbians.


—Rachel Hope Cleves, Charity & Sylvia: A Same-sex Marriage in Early America

Excuse the long quote, but I find a LOT of this to be of interest and/or good reminders about late 18th and early 19th conceptions of female/female romanticism and eroticism, to wit:

  • Lady/lady romantic love and “carnal encounters” were, contrary to a lot of received modern notions, an acknowledged possibility at this time—one which ministers and other authority figures warned against, and which became a source of anxiety and vicious gossip when it was suspected (and which was also used as a weapon against non-conforming women of all descriptions).


  • While the obsession with romantic friendships within the culture of sensibility did provide a context for the expression of same-sex attraction, romantic friendships were only viewed as socially acceptable as long as they were seen as instrumental to, rather than interfering with, marriage prospects (see the increasing suspicion directed at Charity the older she got while remaining unmarried and unreceptive to courting).


  • Perceived “mannishness,” even in the absence of obvious outward signifiers, could cast a suspicious light on behavior that might, on its own, be viewed as socially acceptable.


  • Those statistics on the shift in numbers of women choosing to remain unmarried after the American Revolution are fascinating!


(Note from 2018: FYI for my queer history peeps, there's a TON more in the Charity & Sylvia tag on my journal, including an overall rec of the book if you're interested.)
breathedout: Portrait of breathedout by Leontine Greenberg (bathtime)
The term ‘female husband’ first appeared in a late seventeenth-century humorous ballad about a hermaphrodite, raised as a woman, who impregnated a woman and then married her. The character of the female husband was popularized a century later in British novelist Henry Fielding’s true-crime pamphlet The Female Husband (1746), which related the picaresque adventures of female-bodied George/Mary Hamilton, who dressed as a man and married several women before his true identity was revealed. Fielding’s work launched a century of humorous writings about female-bodied cross-dressers who married women.

Female husbands were not merely figments of the imagination, dreamed up by satirists and pornographers. The term described a real, if incongruous, variety of gender and sexual expression familiar in North America as well as Great Britain. American newspapers in the late 1700s and early 1800s carried so many stories of female husbands that they became repetitious. In 1829 a Maine newspaper published a humorous anecdote in which a woman who sought a summons against her husband was asked by the judge, 'What, another female husband?’ Actually, she reassured the judge, her husband was just a bigamist. In general, the stories about female husbands, though sensational, did not treat their subjects as villains. The female husband’s escapades were disreputable but impressive. She personified admirable masculine qualities including mastery, courage, and initiative.

Charity [Bryant] shared these personality characteristics with the archetypal female husband, which made her appear appropriate to head the household. William Cullen Bryant wrote that his aunt was 'more enterprising and spirited in her temper’ than her companion, and thus naturally 'represent[ed] the male head of the family.’ [Neighbor] Hiram Hurlburt remembered how the first time that he entered the women’s shop, as a boy, Charity had pointed a finger at him and commanded, 'you will wait.’ She then put Hiram in his place by naming his family lineage, before permitting him to approach the cutting table. Charity’s demonstration of mastery led Hiram to conclude that it was 'perfectly proper’ for her to be 'the man.’ Since her youth, Charity had expressed a superior temperament that led her family to teasingly address her as 'your ladyship.’ After the move to Vermont, her domineering personality enabled her to transition from a lady to a female husband.


—Rachel Hope Cleves, Charity & Sylvia: A Same-Sex Marriage in Early America

Well. This single passage manages to evoke pretty much the whole spectrum of my varied and incredibly tangled feelings about (a) the understandable but not exactly solidarity-building historical strategy of getting around male supremacy by assuming the overbearing and entitled attitudes typically associated with men, and thereby convincing male gatekeepers that you must be for real because you’re good at making other people feel inferior; and (b) the extent to which historical women expressing (traits generally associated with) masculinity could of course be doing so as an outgrowth of their own embodied/ensouled realities and self-concepts, an incredibly courageous and resourceful act—not to say that a woman going the (a) route wouldn’t also have to be pretty damn courageous and resourceful in her own right, however much her survival strategy also tended to participate in & reinforce the equation of “proper person in charge” with “being the man,” and thereby to throw more (quote-unquote) feminine women under the bus. Or the horse-cart, as the case may be.

(As an aside: these gender roles weren’t just in the eyes of the beholders; Charity and Sylvia were both pretty clear, if euphemistic, about identifying with the roles of husband and wife respectively, and split their worldly versus domestic spheres accordingly. Merchants settled debts with Charity, Sylvia was responsible for all the cooking and housework, Charity rode into town to dine with friends while Sylvia stayed home and did the Spring cleaning, the words they used for one another reflected the difference, etc. Which makes them, in one way, very predictable—this was the standard relationship model for two people in housekeeping together—and in another way interesting vis-à-vis later 20th century developments like butch/femme.)

Anyway! Picaresque adventures of 18th-century female husbands. Interesting stuff!
breathedout: Portrait of breathedout by Leontine Greenberg (bathtime)
Although women’s sexual behavior was carefully scrutinized in the honor culture [of late 18th- and early 19th-century New England], being the subject of sexual gossip did not necessarily leave a permanent disability. Women could regain their social standing with proper application. The records of the church Charity [Bryant] attended as a young woman are filled with evidence of premarital pregnancies. When parents who had conceived a child before marriage wanted their child to be baptized they first had to make a formal apology for fornication. This might appear to be evidence of a harsh social stigma, but it is really the opposite. The pattern of confession-baptism was so routine the the church records used the same stylized language to record the process each time. It is just what people did. They courted, had sex, got pregnant, got married, had children, confessed, and had their children baptized, in that order. […]

There was more trouble when girl became pregnant and the father did not marry her. But, again, there were routines for dealing with this common situation. The county courts routinely handled ‘prosecutions’ for fornication that were really glorified legal proceedings to secure child support. An unmarried mother would appear before the court, confess herself guilty of fornication, name the father, and the court would assign financial obligations to him. Sometimes the mothers were fined small amounts, but the proceedings were less about punishment than arranging matters to prevent an infant from becoming financially dependent on the town.


—Rachel Hope Cleves, Charity & Sylvia: A Same-Sex Marriage in Early America

An interesting correction to the notion that pre- or extra-marital pregnancy and childbearing are a modern innovation that signals the unraveling of America’s moral fiber.
breathedout: Portrait of breathedout by Leontine Greenberg (bathtime)
Although it is often assumed that the “closet” is an opaque space, meaning that people who are in the closet keep others in total ignorance about their sexuality, often the closet is really an open secret. The ignorance that defines the closet is as likely to be a carefully constructed edifice as it is to be a total absence of knowledge. The closet depends on people strategically choosing to remain ignorant of inconvenient facts. In this light, Charity [Bryant] and Sylvia [Drake]’s acceptance within their [early 19th-century Vermont] town should be understood as the result of their success in persuading others to choose ignorance by not asking questions about their sexuality. No matter what the answer, the very act of being questioned would have damaged the women’s respectability.

The open closet is an especially critical strategy in small towns, where every person serves a role, and which would cease to function if all moral transgressors were ostracized. Small communities can maintain the fiction of ignorance in order to preserve social arrangements that work for the general benefit. Queer history has often focused on the modern city as the most potent site of gay liberation, since its anonymity and living arrangements for single people permitted same-sex-desiring men and women to form innovative communities. More recognition needs to be given to the distinctive opportunities that rural towns allowed for the expression of same-sex sexuality. For early American women in particular, the rural landscape rather than the city served as a critical milieu for establishing same-sex unions. Women of Charity and Sylvia’s [post-Revolutionary] generation spoke far more often of their desire to retire together to a little cottage in the countryside, than of their urge to move together to the city.


—Rachel Hope Cleves, Charity & Sylvia: A Same-Sex Marriage in Early America

I would add that Cleves goes on to detail the ways in which becoming essential to the life of a small town also involved/involves a lot of sacrifice: basically Charity and Sylvia devoted their entire lives to pious public-spiritedness in exchange for a communal respect that never provided security equal to that of the most tenuous legal marriage. Nevertheless, I think these are interesting points.

And the construct of the open closet is a useful one even in more urban contexts—you get it, for example, when more Bohemian subsets of society within which people could be totally uncloseted (e.g. a Bloomsbury or a Silver Screen Hollywood) intersected with more mainstream culture where such things might be known or suspected but were not, by mutual consent, openly acknowledged.
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