NOTE ON STYLE: Both Gwen and I have imitated the style of writing found in actual novels written around 1900.

 

The Suffragette Redemption

by Gwen Lavyril and Jezzi Belle Stewart

©2006

 

Part I: Suffering Suffragettes

by Gwen Lavyril

 

Introduction:

While Henry's "crime" was a petty one the issue was not petty to Mrs. Wentworth. Being something of a Women's Suffrage militant she thought the appropriate justice for her son's petty crime should be a petticoat! Would you agree? If you notice some classic Jezzi tonality to this it is because we have been discussing a much more elaborate tale along a related theme and surely her wonderful ideas for that have seeped into or at least impacted this short and less complicated effort. What's wrong with this is surely me and likely anything good evolved from Jezzi!

 

The Diary of Miss Emily Wentworth, April 28, 1903

Dear Diary,

 

Today was a day that will not soon be forgotten in our small town. Not much happens in Seneca Falls so it is difficult to describe the magnitude of our success today! The vast majority of the ladies of the town marched en mass in support of the Women's Suffrage movement! All saw that we will no longer suffer the indignity of being disenfranchised from our most basic right in this great democracy of ours!

The march was quite a site by any standard and created quite a stir. I personally took special pleasure in the fact that one of the 'ladies' leading the march was my younger brother Henry! I personally took great pleasure in watching him struggle along corseted and in petticoats fussing with his long skirt and petticoats. Even the pretty bonnet I chosen for him could not block the jeers and rude remarks emanating from the side walks along the route! It was truly a 'Red Letter' day, at least for me! I doubt it was for 'Henrietta' and his juvenile friends 'Charlene', and Danielle.

To a reader it may sound a rather cruel and inexplicable thing to do to a 17 year old 'man' about to enter Harvard in the coming fall, but I assure you it was completely justified and deliciously ironic! Perhaps I should set down the facts so anyone who might be so rude as to read this will have the complete picture.

At the moment dear 'Henrietta' remains in the parlor in his finery with his girlfriends waiting to go and listen to Miss Stanton's opinions on the justness of our cause. He is playing the hostess at the moment to his 'lady friends' and others and I can honestly say I have never seen a more miserable and mortified threesome in my young life at least. What makes it even more delicious is that Patricia Conklin his self proclaimed 'sweetheart' is in attendance and quite enjoying 'Henrietta's' penance. She is not a cruel girl at all, but terribly earnest about the movement and quite approves of what was done!

My brother's predicament is quite his own doing and a direct result of his chauvinistic and rather boorish opinions on the capacity of women to exercise the power of the vote. He is of course entitled to be wrong headed but he went rather beyond that with his loutish friends. In fact he rather destroyed a great deal of Mother's time and effort in organizing the whole affair!

In preparation for such a momentous event in out little town we women invested a great deal of time and money in preparing posters and informational materials. It seemed all for naught as every time we went about and posted them they mysteriously disappeared within the hour! After several failed attempts mother solved the little mystery when she saw Henry and his cronies sneaking into our tool shed with a pile of them rather gleefully enjoying their vandalism of our efforts! Mother was of course furious at his underhanded betrayal of our efforts! Her punishment of him was swift and delightfully appropriate!

It was quite simple really. Henry would make a public apology by way of a show of support for our cause. He would don ladies apparel and participate fully in the events of the day as an 'honorary' woman! Well, you should have seen Henry's expression when that was commanded, and it was a command in no uncertain terms! Henry of course ran immediately to father proclaiming the absurd indignity of it.

Now mother is a dutiful and loving wife and mostly demurs to father's wishes as is proper, but there are some issues where father knows that his peace and serenity are at risk if he interferes with mother's wishes. The women's suffrage movement was one such issue and while father was not a great supporter he did not see any harm in it, and was by and large indifferent regarding mother's involvement. In short, while Henry found a sympathetic ear he did not find a reprieve from mother's judgment!

Early this morning I had the distinct pleasure of preparing my dear brother for his ordeal. I was quite thorough and enjoyed every step of the task. I must say that I have enjoyed the entire day and upon completing my entry will return downstairs to join Patricia in having some more fun at Henrietta's expense!

While my clothing would never fit him mother had a great deal of things she no longer wore that we both felt certainly would, and she showed that from which I might chose. Henry was tall and slender as she had been in her younger days and I spent several hours taking things from storage and examining them. I finally found a lovely ensemble in a heavy ecru linen that would be suitably warm for the weather here in April. I especially liked the kid skin gloves and charming bonnet that completed it.

The ensemble consisted of a high waisted skirt and a long fitted jacket to match. The charming jacket was femininely trimmed and was cut on the bias stopping at the hip on the right and running to mid thigh on the left. While it was a charmingly feminine creation its real selling point from my perspective was the need to wear a bustle beneath it which I found with its padded framework stored beneath the dress and its petticoats in the trunk.

I was ready and waiting when Henry came skulking into mothers room this morning. He tried to be clever and seemed to think that all I had planned was to make him put some silly dress on over his male attire. When I told him to go behind the screen and completely disrobe he was initially indigent and disbelieving. Once I told him that I was very serious and that I would see he was a proper 'honorary' woman he begrudgingly complied. The threat of calling mother to do the 'honors' was sufficient!

His expression as I first handed over his brassiere, chemise, bloomers and stockings was naturally one of horror. Once he had donned those in private I brought the corset and laced him as tightly as I could. The more he complained and argued the tighter I laced him! He finally stopped and pretended to just ignore my efforts so I fetched the bustle and deftly tied its upper ribbons about his now much smaller waist. I then proceeded with the ones that went about the upper thighs and at that he once again became attentive, and scurried away to the mirror to see what I had done.

He found, that now, he had what looked something like a legless foot rest covered with satin padding resting snugly upon his behind! He of course raised a fuss and immediately tried to untie my work, but I had knotted the ribbons tightly suspecting that he would not be happy! He was of course furious with me but his efforts were futile and once again I had to invoke the threat of mother and perhaps the maid if he continued to be uncooperative.

'I am sure that Elsie would find you quite an amusing site at the moment,' was sufficient to regain his passivity as the idea of having her see him in ladies underwear was rather galling to him.

Next, I got him into petticoats and found some bunting to give him a womanly bosom. I ignored his pleas not to do such a shameless thing and finally told him that if he didn't stop his complaints I would make them as large as Mrs. Tolliver's were.

I pulled the heavy skirt over his head and was relieved that while it was tight I could get it buttoned up. I slipped him into the jacket and that buttoned a bit more easily as I had not made his bosom nearly the equal of our mothers. I lead him to mother's vanity and sat him down on her nicely padded chair. He learned that bustles are rather inconvenient devices at that moment and rolled a bit to one side as I suggested making his sitting possible.

Mother had gone and procured the largest pair of ladies shoes that she could find in town as our feet were far too small to use either of our own shoes. He complained that the shoes were tight while I used the button hook to button them up his ankles. He did not take much comfort in my laughingly pointing out that every women's shoes were tight!

He was still quite beardless and his complexion was very smooth. My compliments in that regard as I powdered his face a little were not well received and he made some rather rude remarks. For that I decided that some rouge on his lips and cheeks as well as my little trick with lamp black on his lashes was a suitable reward!

His hair was not nearly of any useful length but I was able to brush it forward at top and side which I did before fitting him with the rather snug but charming bonnet which I tied tightly with its wide satin ribbon beneath his chin. His hair now framed his face and the bonnet hid his lack of it elsewhere. Between my bit of artistry to his features and the bonnet he looked quite sweet in my opinion. I did not ask him his opinion as his expression in the mirror did not seem to indicate that he would agree with me.

I hung his dainty little purse from his skirt as it was intended and gave him his gloves to put on. The delicate black lace shawl and his tiny black parasol made charming accessories and after allowing him time to reflect upon his reflection, as it where, I had him walk around to get the hang of his new attire. The bustle wiggled as he walked and it was quite amusing to see his efforts to stop that from happening. All and all, with corseted waist, padded chest and bottom he had a rather nice shape. He surely thought me diabolical and in so many words said so as we made our way down to mother.

'Come along Henrietta mother is waiting!'

'Hush your mouth Emily, this is an outrage and I can't believe mother will let me be seen like this!'

'Oh, you are right I completely forgot!' I responded agreeably returning to mother's room. I returned quickly and placed the final adornment upon him. It was a broad satin sash that demanded 'Votes for Women!' That was the last straw and 'Henrietta' virtually shrieked as she headed for the stairs demanding to see mother and put an end to 'this idiocy.'

We found mother waiting impatiently in the center hallway and it is something of a miracle that 'Henrietta' did not break his neck the way he took the stairs down.

'Mother, look what she has done, you can't mean this, it's totally preposterous, now please can't we have an end to this. I really am sorry about our prank. Mother it was just boyish hi-jinks!'

Mother shushed him with a motion of her hand and rather like a general inspecting the troop walked about him inspecting my efforts. 'Henrietta' stood frozen clutching his parasol and trying to follow her by slowly rotating his head. I decided that his bonnet looked very pretty from all angles.

'Well Emily this is a very nice choice. I always liked wearing this dress. It has all of the little extras that make a girl feel so feminine. Don't you think so too Emily?'

I nodded my agreement as it was the reason for my selection.

'Well, Henrietta, since you have had your so called 'boyish hi-jinks' you will now have your 'girlish hi-jinks' to enjoy. This at least will be to some good purpose and not destructive of other peoples hard work and effort. No, you will march proudly as a young woman wearing that sash that proclaims your sincere empathy for our cause. I think it's a very fitting apology for your behavior!'

Debate on that point was interrupted by father who came bursting forth from the dining room intending only to grab his hat and coat and proceed to the bank of which he was president and majority owner. Well, you can imagine that the sight of 'Henrietta' pulled him up short. He studied poor Henrietta as one might an insect of exotic origins. His disdain for the view was self-evident and so he turned to mother.

'Margaret really, I must protest. What have you done to the boy, I scarcely recognized him there. Good Lord, I remember that dress and it was one of my very favorites, but not on our son! I really must put my foot down on this, I really must.'

Poor 'Henrietta' looked positively ecstatic that finally the man of the family had asserted his God given rights and would not allow such an undignified punishment to be bestowed upon his own son.

'Emil, I am not trying to turn my son into a woman. This is a punishment pure and simple. Are you condoning his vandalism because you consider the people's efforts that he vandalized to be something less than others, say like yourself? I don't think that I could keep my moneys with an institution that had management that was that insensitive to the plight of women in this day and age.'

That might have been the first time that Henry realized that mother via her inheritances was far and away the largest depositor in fathers bank! It was the first time I personally had ever heard her use that big stick and father knew immediately that this was something best left alone. Henry would recover from his parade down Main Street, but the bank would not recover if Mother asked for payment in full to move elsewhere!

I doubted that mother would do any such thing and I suspect father doubted her too, but it did make the point as to how grievously Henry had offended her sensibilities on the whole matter, and father was not taking any chances.

'Well Margaret if you feel that strongly then I won't interfere but if we send two girls to Vassar then I expect that you will be paying for Henrietta there!'

'Oh, Emil, off you go darling. I will only have him thus for today, I promise! We can't afford to pay for two weddings anyway!'

Henry cringed at that remark and father took his coat and hat and left with a 'hrummpff' that mother merely smiled at. Henrietta for his part was making something more akin to mewing sounds and looked quite horribly stricken as if the life boat had just rowed right on by him. I suppose that it had, but I was now quite in the mood to enjoy the festivities of the day!

Poor 'Henrietta' was soon on our large encircling porch looking at the bright and sunny day and seeming a bit confused. I imagined that having his ears covered by hair and the pretty bonnet muffled the usual loud noises of the street. I know my own personal experience with that deprivation caused me something of an odd feeling the first time that I experienced it. Henrietta seemed a bit more frightened than I was at that juncture. I can only imagine that it had the same effect on him, this sudden feeling of disadvantage brought on by what you wear because of what you are. I at least had the reassurance that I should be wearing what I was.

I watched him then having to turn his head from side to side unable to see peripherally because of the hair and bonnet about his face. I had felt rather like a mare with blinders on who had no choice if she were to see what was going on about her. I doubted that he felt like a mare but he clearly felt somewhat deprived from senses that he usually took for granted.

Mother and I each took an elbow and escorted our bewildered charge down the steps and out to the walk. His hesitance and embarrassment were easily felt but we were both persistent and soon we three were on our way to where the ladies planned to gather for this grand exercise.

Mother full of her usual energy and impatience could not stand the slow pace that our charge created and strode ahead with her typical purposeful walk and lack of feminine affectation. Our 'Henrietta' seemed in something like a dream like state and so I wrapped my arm in his and walked at that much slower pace and wondered if perhaps mother and I may have gotten a bit overzealous in our 'lesson.' He was terrified!

Not knowing what else to say I offered some advice about the way to hold ones skirt and petticoats so as not to trip upon them on the uneven walk. I took his grunt as a thank you and began to feel a bit annoyed at him that he took my life's lot as such a horrific embarrassment and at mother for seeming to know that he would. I found it rather offensive that her idea of punishment was to make her son portray a daughter?

It occurred to me that I was actually being punished in some way as well with his mimicry of my reality. His whining and complaining about what I had done was very childish and getting on my nerves. It was not my choice either, that I be encumbered by corset and petticoat any more than his yet that was the expectation for me as a young woman.

Was my gender perceived as such a stigma to him and other men that his mere resemblance of a woman was something of a life threatening crisis? Had I not been taught my ways? I too used to run and climb in trees until I was hobbled in lace and satins as he was now. Why, should I feel sorry for him then, he could have been taught as I was to be a 'woman'! He certainly looked like one at the moment. Should I feel humiliated too? Feeling a bit wicked I decide to see just how much anyone might learn quickly about being a woman.

I knew full well that mother had shared her notion of justice with many women and so probably all present would be full aware that the other 'girl' was Henry doing his penance for his mischievousness. Henry of course had no idea and from his furtive and anxious manner I gathered that he clung to the hope that his womanly disguise might spare him from the recognition of his playmates that would surely be out in number to harass us during our March. We had a considerable ways to walk to the gathering place near the town square, and so, there was time to have a bit of fun with 'Henrietta' who was by then annoying me no end with peevish fussing and clumsy manner.

'Henry you really are making yourself quite obvious with your behaviors. I have done you up quite respectably and you look quite the young lady but for your ghastly mannerisms and actions. I suppose that you look forward to your friends recognizing you in all that finery? That is very brave of your!'

Of course nothing could have been further from the truth and he stopped immediately and turned his head so he might see me better, 'good Lord, Emily nothing could be further from my intentions or more humiliating, what are you saying?'

'I am saying, that if you adopted a more feminine walk and mannerisms you might go undetected as a young man.'

'Do you really think so? What must I do, you must help me, you are responsible for this at least in part!'

I of course did not think so, but the temptation to get him acting girlishly in hopes of saving his skin was too great to resist, and so, knowing it was mean of me I continued my little deception with him. I motioned him into a drive with hedges that obscured it from the street and there we spent some time 'helping' him act more appropriately or so he thought.

'First you must stop striding like a man and take a smaller heel to toe step and move your hips from side to side. Also a lady does not kick her skirts along dusting the pavement with her petticoats! She lifts them daintily with which ever hand does not engage her parasol. As you are too my right I would suggest your right hand for the parasol and the left to hold your skirts properly. Now open the parasol and let me see if you can do it properly at all. Walk down the drive a ways and back to me.'

'Must I Emily, I just don't know if I can bear the thought of it. I mean me, mincing along like some silly woman; it would be just too much!'

'Well then suit yourself if you find our ways so disgraceful. It seems to me it is what you and your friends find desirable in a young lady after all. That dainty step and womanly sway a she makes her way along. All her little feminine gestures smiles and trills of laughter certainly don't offend you when you are watching, that much I have seen for myself! How odd you find it a so embarrassing to mimic her, should we women be embarrassed too, then?'

'No, of course not, such graces delight a man to watch but lord knows we are not meant to have them!'

'Oh, I think that you underestimate yourself. Look how prettily you have turned out! I know it surprises you, but still, why should feminine affectations be beyond you then? Mother taught me how to walk and conduct myself, corsets and bustles are hardly natural appliances for either gender. It's up to you, but if I were in your circumstance I would make a try rather than be as obvious a male as you have been so far.'

He thought for a moment and then our little lessons began. How I kept a grin suppressed I don't know other than it would have instantly doomed my efforts should he see me taking an ounce of pleasure from his actions!

I should mention that in our small town the 'walks' that our good mayor is so proud of are not much more than wooden ramps laid end to end. The men of course see no issue with that inexpensive and 'practical' design. I would invite them to try and negotiate them in ladies shoes and they would quickly vote for something more amenable to smaller heels and pointed toes! Yet another reason we should have a say in things!

Henry had already caught a heel more than once and nearly toppled into our less than pristine street except for my saving grasp upon his arm. I shared with him the secret of walking more or less on tip-toe to avoid the treacherous cracks in part for fun but mostly for my own safety as I had no intention of landing in a filthy gutter with him!

We left the sheltered drive and returned to the side walk with 'Henrietta' mincing daintily beside me and holding her skirt just so. Now on tip-toe taking tiny steps and wriggling her bustle it took all I was worth not to dissolve in laughter. I scrupulously gazed out onto the street to avoid having to watch his hilarious efforts. In his defense he no longer caught his heels and that seemed to please him, but not nearly so much as his display did!

His parasol was open now as he like the notion that a modest girl might use it to shield her face from the eyes of interested young men. He was affecting behaviors that would embarrass the most shameless of coquettes and seemed not to notice that of the two of us he was now the one rather 'flouncing' down the walk. He even wore a sassy smile as I suggested he should by explaining earnestly to him that he needed to seem very pleased to look so lovely.

So, there I had my little brother at my side wriggling along on tip-toe smiling brightly and even persuaded from time to time to cover his mouth with his gloved hand and giggle inanely at nothing. I probably should have been ashamed of myself, but it was obvious that he took us women for simpering fools with few if any serious thoughts within our bonneted heads! How else might he think that he would fit right in by making such a ludicrous display? For my money it seemed quite a fair thing to do since he obviously held ridiculous notions regarding us, and I encouraged his behavior with every mincing step he took all the way to the town square!

As we approached the large group of women gathering in the distance I reassured him that he was doing splendidly. Naturally when we came close enough it became obvious that all were watching him with great amusement and that mother was looking quite askance at her prancing son and no nonsense daughter. The look on Patricia's face was one of first amazement, and then great amusement. Henry of course realized almost immediately that I had made rather a fool of him and stopped his little show but not before all had had a good bit of time to watch him play his version of a lady and so I was quite content with the outcome.

'Emily, you witch you have played me for a fool quite evilly and I won't forgive you this humiliation. Patricia looks as if her side will split from laughing and how do I explain all that?'

I waved to Patricia who waved back gaily and came quickly toward us.

'Emily Wentworth you shameless girl, you put poor Henry up to that didn't you? It was very naughty of you but I have to say I have never seen a funnier site in my life! Henry, you poor dear, look at you! I had no idea that my beau was a comely young woman at heart!'

'Patricia please I am no such thing and this is a horrid mess I am in. Talk to mother and tell her how offensive you find it that she has taken such retribution on me for my petty offenses, please? I can still hurry back home and avoid this disaster!'

'Oh Henry, I will do no such thing! I think that you look adorable and I see a certain ironic justice in petticoats for petty offenses, don't you? Now come with me my pretty and I will introduce you to some other young ladies who will make you feel better!'

'What other young ladies?'

'Come along dear, you will see.'

Neither Henry nor I were prepared but I could see that the scene we were led to brightened his mood considerably! Henry's two partners in crime, Daniel and Charles Cooper were standing there with their mother dressed in ladies clothing and looking every bit as miserable as Henry. Patricia was obviously quite amused!

'See Henrietta you will have other young ladies to march with today! Henrietta, please meet Charlene and Danielle, but I believe that you girls know each other already?'

Evidently Mrs. Cooper having been informed by mother of her sons' complicity thought mother's 'justice' quite appropriate. Unfortunately despite their satin dresses and lacy accessories they were not as attractive as Henrietta, and Daniel being a rather heavy set boy made a rather plump sort of lady. Mrs. Cooper was a rather severe sort of woman and so while their dresses were quite feminine they were also dour and conservative especially in comparison to Henry's attire.

The 'ladies for a day' mostly stared at each other for a few moments with none seemingly interested in chatting! So, with not much else to do Patricia and I had a bit of fun complimenting them on their attire and quizzing them regarding their feelings at the moment. They did not seem to appreciate our reassurances that they were portraying the 'fair sex' quite admirably and that we were very proud of them!

It was not long before our march began and the numbers of ladies participating was impressive. As expected the newspapers were on hand and the street was lined with men intent on ridiculing and or intimidating us. We saw to it that Henrietta, Charlene, and Danielle were front and center locked arm in arm like many others as a metaphor for our feminine solidarity.

An odd thing happened, in that, our honorary ladies were not recognized for whom they were! I can only suppose that the likely hood of three young men doing as they were doing was so improbable that it never occurred to any of the crowd on hand that such a thing might happen! They did not get off lightly for being mistaken for women and that may have offended them more than anything in retrospect.

While we were all fully aware of what would likely be shouted I doubt that they were prepared in the least. They of course had no option but to endure the jibes and typically male perceptions of what was right and proper for a female. From behind, Patricia and I watched their heads darting frantically from side to side and the whispering between them that all the raucous noise and rude remarks engendered.

Ironically their timidity mostly the result of their anxiety about discovery made them seem intimidated and femininely fearful. This of course was easily seen and they received a lot more rude remarks than most of us who cared not one wit what the curbside fools were hollering. We had in fact heard it all before in one form or circumstance and it was as they say, 'like water off of a ducks back'. For our ersatz ladies the remarks were more like darts and Charlene at least could be seen to dab at her eyes with her lace hanky and we were pretty sure that she was not pretending to sob.

I suppose to them such opinions as, 'you belong in the kitchen, why aren't you married and having babies, and stop trying to be men!' had a bit more gravity and had not been heard before. Regardless nothing violent happened and we reached our destination counting the day a great success. While nothing was said the impact of that walk was clearly great and the three rather clung together feeling and looking quite disenfranchised from their usual lofty male attitudes and presumptions. The three of them literally had 'walked a mile in our shoes',and frankly, looked the worse for their obviously frightening experience.

Patricia and I concurred that they would be the better for it, but tried to cheer them up. They were clearly shaken by the remarks that had been hurled at them, but mostly it was their male vanity that was suffering, evidently for the seeming ease with which their portrayals had been accepted, and not much more. Consequently we were not overly concerned and moved them along to attend all the lectures and work shops that were to follow.

So dear diary that is the summation of this momentous day so far and I am heading down to join Patricia and our ladies for a very important speech by Mrs. Stanton that I am sure cannot be missed, especially by Henrietta and her two girlfriends! That will close out this special day and I suppose Henrietta's obligations. Patricia and I agree that a fitting closing might be returning Henrietta to the kitchen to help with all the cleaning up that needs to be done yet. We will leave that up to mother, but I suspect that her adage, 'many hands make light work', will land Henrietta in a nice apron for a fun evening of cleaning dishes and chatting about what a special and wonderful day it has been.

I must remind Patricia just for fun, to then be sure to ask 'Henrietta' if after such a traumatic day she is not relieved to be back in the kitchen where she belongs!

Until Tomorrow then?

Emily Wentworth

 

 

Part II: Sister Suffragettes

by Jezzi Belle Stewart

 

INTRODUCTION

As I am in awe of Gwen's talent as a writer, I was pleased and flattered to read her introduction to "Suffering Suffragettes" citing me as partial inspiration. Gwen and I share a rather nicely warped sense of humor, and in many respects our views on femininity and feminization are similar. However, she likes her reluctant hero(ines) to remain reluctant, while I like to see them converted to the wonders of true femininity, becoming strong, independent women. Her "opening of the door", so to speak, is what prompted me to ask her permission to write this continuation, which she graciously granted. Love ya, Gwennie!

The only things I have changed from Gwen's scenario is to upgrade the parade to a three day convention, and Patricia to Henry's fiancee'.

 

The Diary of Miss Emily Wentworth, April 30, 1903

Dear Diary:

It is four o'clock in the morning, so please excuse any grammatical errors or lapses in ladylike decorum in my prose. I have spent the last two hours talking first with my new friend but old acquaintance, Elsie, our maid, and next with my brother in skirts, Henrietta! I simply must write while all is fresh.

It is most amazing! I had thought it an end to my brother's odyssey through the seas of womanhood when I watched him, or. rather, her, as she certainly moved and handled her skirts as if born to it by that time, climb the stairs from our kitchen shortly past midnight, having been finally released by Mother from our domestic duties. BUT, as it turned out, it was not! And I must say that I have done a complete about face, as they say, in my opinion of my younger sibling.

After "Danielle" and "Charlene" had left with their mother, Henry had quietly and without protest, donned an apron and, at mother's command, proceeded to help her and I with the cleanup from our ladies' afternoon. He did not even protest, other than one pleading look at our unyielding mother, when he realized that Cook was directing the event and that Elsie was helping also so that two more women with whom he would have to live, and servants at that, were to be aware of his plight. I must say that, while he didn't seem to share our exuberant mood, continuing from our day's, in our opinion, successful march for women's' suffrage, and while he did not share in our womanly conversation unless directly addressed, he quietly and efficiently did the work which Cook gave him and took her and Elsie's direction in how to do it with good grace. Had I not known it was my brother under the skirts, I would not have supposed it was anything other than five women working in our kitchen - albeit one of them a bit shy.

I stayed dressed for an additional hour and was a bit surprised that I did not get the call for help I was expecting from Henry, as I knew, I being "in the same boat" so to speak, he would not be able to shed his garments by himself. I was certainly unprepared, when i finally summoned Elsie, for her statement that "Miss Henrietta" had requested her help before retiring. That DID NOT sound like the Henry I knew. I was also suspicious of the little smile that seemed to hover on Elsie's lips as, when I asked about my brother's mood, she stated that "Miss Henrietta thanked me graciously for my help ... as did Master Henry, when he reappeared." My brother thanking a servant, a female servant, a female servant who knew he was a man dressed by his sister as a woman, being gracious and courteous!? Will wonders never cease! Laying my head on my pillow, I thought that when I saw my brother in the morning, I might not give him quite the "hard time" I had planned.

I did not see Henry this morning. I did not see him till early afternoon, but, in a way, I have not seen him at all today. When I came down to breakfast, I inquired of Mother and Father if they had seen him, and they both replied in the negative. At this point, Elsie, who was serving, offered the information that Master Henry - and again I saw that mischievous smile - had gone out early stating he did not know when he would be returning. Father was of the opinion that we, Mother and I, had so humiliated the boy yesterday that he could not bear to show his face to us yet. I agreed with him, but could not shake the feeling that "something was up." I was right, but never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined what was about to transpire.

Yesterday's activities having been but one day's out of three, Mother and I proceeded to dress for the luncheon and talk by Mrs. Stanton that was to be held in the pavilion tent down at the chautauqua grounds starting at noon. Even Father was going. Men had been invited and, while mother had not specifically asked him to attend, he had asked her at breakfast whether she would like his company as he had rather appreciated how brave and committed she and the other women had been yesterday and had decided that perhaps it was time that he showed his support for the cause that could so move the woman who had graciously agreed to share her life with him in a more concrete manner. Whether his declaration was entirely altruistic or whether Henry's experience, having given him a glimpse of the extent to which two - I include myself - determined women would go when seriously annoyed, had given him a nightmare experience of himself in skirts, I did not know, but I give him the benefit of the doubt, and mother was simply radiant. As a proper young lady, I will pretend I do not Know what transpires in the marital bedroom, but I assume that as I write, Father is being well rewarded.

Yesterday Mother and I had been rather soberly dressed (unlike Henrietta!) in grays and brown in light of the seriousness of our cause, not wishing to give the unenlightened male population of the march route any actual reason to hurl taunts of "frivolous females" at us. Since "reason" and "male" do not often go together (Yes, I have my prejudices also.) they did so anyway, but at least WE knew we had done nothing to foster their ill conceived jibes. Anyway, today was to be more of a social gathering of like minded women, and while Father wore his usual black suit and, I must admit, looked quite handsome, we women decided to dress in more colorful attire, due mostly to mother, who was feeling most generous toward Father now and knew he liked her dressed in more colorful and what he considered more feminine fashion. For a moment, the devil in me arose and caused me to consider wearing the dress of mother's that dear Henrietta had worn yesterday just to see Father's reaction, but being ever the dutiful daughter, and knowing it would be rather large and therefore unflattering on me, I decided to subdue my sense of humor, and dress, like mother, as he would wish me to. Mother chose a light brown walking skirt with dark brown accents topped by a lovely rose colored silk Jacquard jacket, and she had Elsie do up her hair in a rather light hearted fashion. To somewhat match her, I wore the rose tea dress with the light green accents that I had worn for tea with the President and First Lady the previous spring, I having become friends with the President's daughter, Alice. "I can be president or I can control Alice," Mr. Roosevelt had stated. "I cannot possibly do both." And he was and is correct. I thoroughly love and enjoy dear Alice, but, oh my, she is a wild woman! I digress. Since no one I knew or whose opinion I cared about in Seneca Falls was likely to have been in Washington that spring and seen me in it, I felt it safe to wear that delightful dress a second time. Mother and I were, of course, corseted, but neither of us wore a bustle or bonnet, those relics of an earlier age! All in all, I felt the three of us made quite a delightful picture as we entered the large cream colored chautauqua tent.

Who should we see first, but Elsie. Since today was her day off, there was nothing untoward about seeing her, except that none of us had had any idea that she was a suffragette. Of course she was dressed in normal clothes, and it was somewhat startling to me, used to seeing her only in her uniforms, to realize how strikingly pretty she was. My parents, and I likewise, believed, unlike many of our peers, that servants were not inherently inferior simply because of the nature of their employment, and treated our servants, when off duty, as they would their other acquaintances. We greeted her as such, and she offered us an invitation us sit with her at her table, which we accepted. She had just time to introduce us to her mother, who had accompanied her, she said, "to see what all this 'ere voting ruckus was all about", before the waiters began serving the lunch. Mother and I engaged Elsie and her mother in conversation, while father introduced himself to the one other man at the table. He turned out to be a bricklayer who had accompanied his wife because, as he said, "I voted for Grant and Harrison, and where did that get us. Women can't do a worse job than we men have." I thought that a very enlightened position for a man and a bricklayer to take and then was ashamed of myself for being such a snob. He and father appeared to be getting along splendidly discussing Father's wish to replace our old wooden carriage house with a more substantial brick one, while we had a delightful conversation with Elsie and her mother, the result of which, by the time the lunch ended, was another confirmed suffragette. We were sipping the last of our tea as the pounding of the gavel caused us to turn and face the stage as the "important personages" filed on and took their seats.

Mrs. Gavilla Patterson, Gavie, as mother called her as they were best friends from grade school, as leader of our group, took the podium to introduce Mrs. Stanton, while Mrs. Stanton herself and several other women took seats behind her. I was surprised to see that one of the women was Patricia Conklin, my brother's fiancee''. While I turned to appraise my mother of this fact, my brain must have been working undetected, like the workings of some infernal calculating machine, to identify the other seated women, and when it presented my consciousness with the identity of the woman seated next to Patricia, I am afraid I lost all sense of ladylike decorum and grabbed mother and shook her and shouted, "It's Hen ... Henrietta!", which conclusion both my Mother and Father had already reached. As mother and I both opened our mouths to speak, Father, with remarkable presence of mind, reached out both hands and placed fingers over our lips, indicating with a shake of his head, the people all around us who might not be aware of the wolf in ewe's clothing among the dignitaries before us. I thought to turn and warn Elsie, only to see her smiling at us. The little minx had known about this all along, even at breakfast this morning! I glared at her in frustration because, of course, we could not speak of it and had to pretend that there was nothing out of the ordinary.

Auntie Gavie (as she had told me early on to call her, and Mother approved) gave, I'm sure, a very nice introduction, none of which I consciously heard as my mind was still whirling over the knowledge that my brother was up on the dais, again in skirts. One would think there would have been an uproar, whether outrage or laughter, from the audience of women, as most of them had known Henry for years, and had also seen him and recognized him in his Henrietta mode yesterday, but there was not; the crowd was relatively silent and there was no sign that he was recognized by any but Mother, Father, Elsie, and I. And as I gazed at what I had a great deal of trouble thinking of as him, I saw why that was so. Yesterday, Henry had been dressed by me to stand out from the rest of us and was induced, tricked if you will, by me to act the caricature of a woman, to act, in fact, as he and his friends thought women acted. He thought he was undetected as a male, while every true woman who saw him knew, even if they did not know the circumstances, that a man in a dress was in their midst. Today, I had to admit it was Henrietta seated upon the dais and my brother was nowhere to be seen. First of all, he was dressed like the rest of us; he had on a pale green tea dress with a pink roses design upon it - rather like my dress, in fact, with the base color and pattern color reversed; while it was clear that he, like the great majority of us, was corseted, there was no outdated bustle or childish bonnet in evidence. His hair had to have been an artificial creation, as it was in the current style made popular by the artist Charles Dana Gibson, clearly much longer than Henry's natural hair, though the same color. But if one did not know those facts, one would not have known that it was not the natural hair of the lovely woman beneath it. And she - I really cannot think in terms of 'he' or 'him' or 'his' any more as I write this - was lovely! Gone was the caricature of yesterday, replaced not only by the look of femininity but by femininity itself; her body language and facial expression just seemed to boldly announce, "I am woman!"

Elsie made the following sketches while Mother, Father, and I were gawking. I am reminded again of my own shortcomings; Elsie has worked for us for over three years and I had no idea as to her ideas and talents. Perhaps I had better work to get my own house in order rather than worrying about the ordering of my brother's.

How had this metamorphosis come to pass? My first thought was that this must be Patricia's doing; she certainly had seemed to have as much fun tormenting poor Henrietta yesterday as I did, and I had guiltily wondered whether I had rather destroyed their relationship. I had not had a chance to do any "damage control" yesterday, and had meant to speak to her today on the subject. Perhaps she felt yesterday had not been punishment enough for her boorish and chauvinistic fiancé, but as I once again examined Henrietta, I began to doubt that, as had punishment been Patricia's goal, she would have made HIM appear slightly ridiculous, as yesterday, clearly a boy in a dress. No something else was afoot here, as SHE in no way appeared ridiculous, quite the opposite in fact; there was a proud, lovely, and intelligent looking young lady up on that dais.

I had been ignoring what was happening at the podium. My Auntie had been replaced by Mrs. Stanton who had apparently been speaking for several minutes already while I had been ruminating. What I present here next, is, I have no doubt, a completely accurate transcript of the words that she and Henrietta - yes Henrietta - spoke , as Elsie took them down in the new business shorthand (!!!) and then wrote them out for me earlier this evening. I had no idea she had studied and mastered this; I AM such a snob!

I became aware of Mrs. Stanton's words as she said. "... and do not give up on men! They can be brought to see the right of things. Although ..." and here she turned her head and looked directly at the beautiful woman who was my brother, "... sometimes it takes drastic measures to bring that desired outcome about. Before continuing with my prepared remarks, the lovely young lady to my left has asked to speak to you. I will give you no introduction, as she will undoubtedly do that herself." She moved from the podium and gracefully sat as my brother arose and, herself the very model of feminine grace, took her place. Shock upon shock! She spoke with a feminine voice that she had not used yesterday. It was a lovely voice, soft and lilting, and yet somehow managing to carry throughout the large tent in which we were lodged. How had she managed to acquire such a voice in the little less than twelve hours since I had last heard her speak? I did not know, and I still do not, as, under the weight of other more pressing questions, I neglected to ask when later I was able to converse with her. No harm, as I imagine that the events of THIS convention will be a major topic of conversation between us, and, indeed, among the majority of the population of Seneca Falls, for quite some time! I quote below my brother's, words exactly as Elsie presented them to me; Henrietta was certainly not shy with her opening statement: "Ladies, and enlightened gentlemen, My name is Henry Wentworth."

At this point the crowd let out a gasp of disbelief, but then the level of conversation rose sharply as recognition belatedly set in. I noted that Mother and Father both had their heads in their hands, while Elsie, paused in her writing, was whispering in the ear of her mother, who looked as though any moment her jaw was going to hit the table top. Henrietta stood poised and confident, simply waiting for the noise to cease. When the chaos diminished, as it did after several minutes as everyone realized that the young lady or young man before them was not going to leave and did not look embarrassed or intimidated by the disorder flowing around him/her, she continued. "I appear before you as a convert, disciple, and new apostle of the right of the female citizens of this great democracy of ours to vote and hold public office and to act in all ways on an equal footing with men - not the same as men, but equal to them. Although ..." Here she smiled "... my experience yesterday leads me to believe that any man who proclaims women as the weaker - or even the equal - sex is a fool ... as I certainly was up till then. I come before you dressed as I am, behaving and speaking as I am, of my own free will to show you the sincerity of my declaration. For the remainder of today and for tomorrow till the end of this historic convention, I am Henrietta ... and if you will have me, I would be proud to be your sister in the cause of women's' suffrage just as I will be proud to be your brother in it in the future!"

There was absolute silence in the room, and I imagine Henrietta had a few nervous moments, as did I for her as, unbelievable as it seems given my brother's previous behavior, I had no doubt as to his sincerity, and my heart was bursting with new found pride. Glancing at my parents, I could see that while my father appeared still undecided, Mother had come to the same conclusion as I. First her husband and now her son had restored her faith in MANkind. The silence was broken by a smattering of applause, that turned into a standing ovation as the ladies and perhaps even more so the men, realized that no man who was not as sincere as Henry had declared himself to be, would do what he had done. It was clear that by his choice of clothing and demeanor he was not making fun of women, but was paying tribute to them!. It was several minutes before the applause died down and everyone had reseated themselves. As order resumed, Henrietta continued. I may have been mistaken because of my distance from her, but I believe there were tears on her cheeks as just for a moment she was overwhelmed by the positive nature of the response to her declaration. If true, it had to have been an automatic response on her part, just as it was a thoroughly feminine one.

"Thank you; thank you all so much. I, and Henry in the future, hope to prove worthy of such a response. Henry, as I was then, before the events of yesterday, certainly was not. I believed women to be inferior to men, to be flighty, silly creatures fit only for tasks requiring minimal intelligence and for the service and pleasure and comfort of we men. Up till yesterday, I matched my actions to my beliefs, most recently by tearing down and destroying the posters for this noble convention which you ladies had worked so hard to create and post. How I could believe such nonsense and act in such ways given the edifying models of behavior set by my parents and sister, I do not know. No one else is to blame for my actions; I take full responsibility for them. Had I emulated my parents, had I viewed my sister as a person of equal worth - I would say now, superior worth - rather than an inferior and often irritating creature, I would not have found myself in the position of extreme humiliation I did yesterday, for yesterday I was taken in hand by my mother and by my sister and forced to become a caricature of a woman, a creature exactly like I supposed women to be, the figure of ridicule you all saw unwillingly marching, or, rather, mincing along in the parade and participating in the day's other activities."

"At first, all I could do was feel that sorry for myself that I had been so terribly wronged. How could my mother and sister do this to me, the heir to the castle, so to speak, and by divine right, their born superior? I was outraged, but also terrified of being recognized by any of my misogynist compatriots. Because I was so terrified, I succumbed to the direction of my sister who convinced me that if I followed her directions, no one would take me for anything other than a natural woman. By design, she trained me to act the part of a woman as I thought women to be, and as a result, I fooled no one. When my fiancee' joined us and not only refused to help me but instead cooperated in my humiliation, I felt as though I had reached the low point of my existence."

"It is said that when one is at the lowest point, there is no place else to go but up. My salvation was my fiancee', Miss Patricia Conklin." With a graceful and feminine sweep of her arm, she indicated Patricia, who, by the blush so extreme I noted it from the far reaches of the tent, it was obvious, had no knowledge that she was going to be singled out and acknowledged by her future spouse in such a way. "I suppose deep down I knew that my parents and sister loved me, but as they were being the instruments of my extreme humiliation and discomfort, that knowledge was for the time being buried deeply. I love Patricia, though, with all my heart, and believe deeply that God intends us for one another; since she has accepted my proposal of marriage, I believe she feels the same in regard to me. I had to believe that she would not treat me as she was simply out of spite or revenge, but that she had to believe that what she was doing was ultimately for my benefit. I Followed that thought and I experienced an epiphany; what Divine love did for the benefit of that persecutor of Christians, Saul, on the road to Damascus, I am convinced the Divinely inspired love of Patricia and I for one another did for me. Suddenly all was clear! My condition of the moment was all of my own chauvinistic, stubborn, childish creation. My sister, my mother, Mrs. Stanton, all of you were in the right, and I, my mental vision narrowed by the blinders of my prejudice much as my physical vision was by the ridiculous bonnet I wore, did not ... would not ... see. No more! I began to consider not how badly I had been used, but what I might learn from the experience. I listened to the words of Mrs. Stanton and the other speakers for the first time with an open mind. As I looked around the tent, I began to realize exactly how much complex work and planning had gone into this enterprise, and all of it done by women. Certainly the frivolous females of my world view would be incapable of doing so much. I thought of mentioning this to my 'partners in crime' - Charlene' and 'Danielle', as I was Henrietta - but we had become separated. Even Mother and Emily, my tormentors, as I thought of them at that time, had left me to my own devices, no doubt watching me from a distance to see how much bigger a fool I could make of myself. Only Patricia remained with me and I mentioned my changing perceptions to her. She looked at me and for the first time she dropped her mockery of me and spoke to me by name, 'Henry, God is good; She did not inspire love in me for you to be wasted on you as you were. There is, as I believed, hope for you yet. you are on the right path; watch and observe.' She gave me a kiss on the cheek as one woman might do with another, and I knew I was back to being Henrietta in her eyes. And then she, too, left me."

 

"I wandered, and made it a point to speak respectfully to the women I met. At first they were suspicious of me, with every right to be so, but some, seeing me as Patricia did as a work in progress, treated me as they would another real woman, and answered my questions about their cause. One such woman was none other than Mrs. Stanton herself. Such a magnificent woman! She told me straight out that she had heard what I had done, heard what Mother and Emily had planned for me, and heartily approved. However, she also stated that since I did appear to have had a change of heart and to be sincere in my desire to learn, she would help. We spent a half hour in conversation before Mother came to collect me to return home and prepare for our afternoon tea guests, and I must say I learned more in that half hour than from much of my formal schooling. Although she knew nothing of the plans I had made, when I approached her this morning, she she did not appear too surprised to see me as I am, stating that while this was a bit extreme even for her imagination, she had believed after our time together yesterday that I would find some way to both prove my sincerity to you all and to make the beginning of amends for my past behavior. She was gracious enough to grant me this time to address you, and..." Here he turned to the Great Lady. "... I thank you, Elizabeth, from the bottom of my heart." Again there was tumultuous applause lasting a minute or more before Henrietta could continue.

 

"At home, I was left to play unwilling hostess to Charlene and Danielle as well as two young ladies from our school class. Since I was now determined to make, as they say, lemonade from lemons, and learn from my experience, I decided that my best course of action would be to do my best to be a gracious hostess to our guests; to that end, I did my best to recall all the the times I had seen Mother in that role, and i believe I did a creditable job as the two young ladies complimented me upon leaving, telling me that it was apparent to them that I was benefiting from my experience."

"The final step in my remarkable conversion occurred as we repaired to the kitchen for the clean up following the departure of our guests. I fully expected that while I might be made to participate, Mother and Emily would simply retire for the night. Imagine my surprise when both rolled up their sleeves and pitched in, taking direction, as did Elsie and I, from Cook. The solidarity of womankind!" She paused and looked out across the throng and found us, as I could tell from her smile. She looked at Father and I could tell their eyes met. "To be fair," she continued, "I later learned that Father had been out in the stables helping the grooms with the carriage and horses." For the first time since he had recognized his 'daughter' upon the dais, I saw Father smile.

"As I worked quietly, trying to adjust my behavior from that of the caricature that I had previously thought reality to that of the true real women around me, it occurred to me that my infamous reputation was wide spread and of long standing and that any protestations of such a drastic and swift change in me as I might make would be taken not just with a grain, but with a whole shaker full of salt. I determined to come up with a way to make the epiphany I had experienced plain to you all beyond a shadow of a doubt. I knew I needed to seek help, first in ascertaining if what I was considering was possible, and then, if so, in implementing it . I received the help I sought from two wonderful women, and What you see before you shows you the result of it. I am a new man, proud to present myself as a tribute to the new American woman, ready to stand shoulder to shoulder with men, suffrage in hand, as we march into this new century, equal partners, doing our best to, in the words of James Madison, 'secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity."

MY goodness my brother made a magnificent woman! Henrietta 'brought the house down'! It was almost ten minutes before she could speak again.

"Finally, I, Henrietta, will be available to you all as I work and take recreation with you for the remainder of the conference, to answer any and all questions you might have. I thank you all for your patience throughout my remarks, I once again thank, you, Mrs. Stanton, for giving me the opportunity to make them. I thank my friend Elsie and my soul mate Patricia for seeing in a self misguided boy both the man and the woman there was the potential to become and for their help and guidance in turning a sows ear into this silk purse."

She turned to Patricia, who stood and stepped forward into her arms. They hugged and kissed each other on the cheek as two women, but, oddly, there was no doubt that the love of man and woman was there too. There was not a dry eye among the women in the gathering, as she returned to the podium.

"I would like to thank my father who I'm sure thought that he could stop my mother and sister from doing what they did to me yesterday, but chose not to." There was some laughter at her way of phrasing that. "And mostly I would like to thank from the bottom of my heart my dear mother and dear sister Emily, for if they had not forced me into 'petticoat punishment', as I believe they call it in England, I would not have experienced the epiphany that has changed me and allowed me to begin the journey that will make me a better person ... whether in skirts or trousers!"

For the second time in less than ten minutes, we were all of us on our feet, cheering, laughing at the last statement, and applauding for all we were worth. When we all ran down finally, Mrs. Stanton had reclaimed the podium, and she addressed HIM: "My dear, you make a better man as Henrietta than you ever did as Henry, and I am sure that the new Henry that will appear Monday will be as fine a man as Henrietta is a woman. All of us, Henrietta's new friends, will not desert her Monday simply because her clothes and appearance change. As I said in the beginning ladies, do not give up on your men; we have an example before us that change IS possible. God speed Henrietta and Henry. And now ..."

I have never been prouder of my brother as I was at that moment when he was my sister! We met only briefly after the speeches, but Henrietta promised mother and I a good 'woman to women' talk after this evenings ball. Father could participate, she said with a smile, but only if he was willing to don a nightgown! AND FATHER AGREED !!! But Mother, realizing, I believe, that his heart was not in it, and appreciating that he had made a large step just by attending the convention today, let him off the hook by saying that she thought she would be quite tired by the end of the ball and that anyway her daughters would be able to talk more freely without their parents present. She and Father would accept a summary of our conversation in the morning. I hope that when I marry, my husband and I will have the type of relationship that Mother and Father have.

As Henrietta would be busy, and Patricia and Elsie as well, with preparations for the night's ball, we said our farewells and left for home, Mother and I to nap and father to clear up some bank business. Along the way we exchanged hugs and parted with Elsie's mother, who assured us she would return to the convention on the morrow to officially join our cause. As I laid my head upon my pillow, I thought of seeing my brother at the ball, and decided that I would kill him if Henrietta ended up in a gown more splendid than mine!

As Mother and I checked ourselves in the full length mirror provided in the special tent set aside as the ladies salon that evening, I decided that Henrietta would have to have gone some to outshine Mother and I. Since Elsie was working at the convention hall, Mother and I had become like school chums, doing each other's hair and helping each other dress, all the while giggling and gossiping like schoolgirls. Much of our conversation, as might be expected, centered on Henry's remarkable and, we were now convinced, sincere conversion and what we could expect to see Henrietta wearing at the ball. Mother agreed to join me in my planned homicide should her new daughter outshine us both. We had done our hair like Henrietta's in Mr. Gibson's style, not missing the irony that we two true females were taking our hairstyle cues from a faux femme fatal. Since my beau, Stalwart was escorting me (who else !!) I decided that I would dress to 'set the hook', so to speak. I must admit to a bit of jealousy that my little brother had become engaged before me. The Gibson style allowed my neck to show to advantage and my gown left my shoulders bare, without a hint of blemish, while its decollate allowed just a glimpse of my bosom. I could wish its color red to inflame, but being a proper lady I had settled for a dusty rose satin that I hoped would more subtly encourage such a response. Mother had loaned me the necklace and earrings she had worn to her debutante ball, and they were splendid. Overall, I was quite pleased. Mother, while dressed more conservatively as befitted a more mature married lady, was still quite beautiful, and if, the light in Father's eyes upon seeing her was any judge, she had upon him the same effect I hoped to elicit from Stalwart.

By the way, I have found out the reason for his unusual but, in its generic sense, appropriate name. He had been born during the Garfield campaign to staunch Stalwart Republican parents and by the time of the assassination and its unfortunate connection with the Stalwarts, it was too late to change it. How he, with such parents, ended up progressive enough to sympathize with my views and the cause of women's suffrage, I do not know; I am just glad it is so.

As we exited the salon tent and entered the main tent, we saw Henrietta: "Emily Wentworth took an ax and gave her SISTER forty whacks; when she saw what she had done, she gave her BROTHER forty one!" was the paraphrase of that bit of school yard doggerel that ran through my mind. She was absolutely gorgeous, and if she had an equal, it was not Mother or I, Patricia standing beside her. Henrietta had not changed her hair, and Patricia had done hers to match. As had been the case this afternoon, she was wearing a dress almost exactly like mine, only in emerald green. Patricia's was nearly the same only in the red that I had eschewed! And what HAD Patricia done to create such a realistic hint of bosom peeking from Henrietta's decollate? Their jewelry sparkled to match their sparkling eyes. Henrietta's eyes sparkled with anticipation of a new world opening, Patricia's with love and pride. I knew I would give Stalwart such a smack if he even looked at Henrietta below the neck! I glanced at Mother and saw her beaming with the pride that a mother can only feel for a daughter with whom she is well pleased. Strangely, I felt no jealousy that that look was not bestowed on me; this was clearly, Henrietta's night, and, I had to admit, rightly so.

 

We approached the two, and hugs and air kisses commenced. Stalwart approached and I introduced him to Patricia and Henrietta. Stalwart had met Henry on several occasions, but I could tell that he had no thought but that he was being introduced to two beautiful women - three, actually, because Elsie joined us at that moment. having, as I mentioned, only ever seen her in her uniform, I was again amazed at how lovely she was, although she, like I and even Patricia, took second to Henrietta. During the whole time we were together, Stalwart did NOT glance below my sister's neck - nor Elsie's, nor Patricia's. He had, as a matter of fact, after politeness had been discharged, eyes only for me, and I knew then that I WOULD be Mrs. Stalwart Hall. If I have not disgraced my female intuition, I will be able to announce that very fact tomorrow evening.

 

Stalwart took me off to dance, and I lost track of Henrietta till several dances had passed. As Stalwart guided me off the dance floor in search of some refreshments, I noticed her again, standing on the edge of the floor looking rather wistfully out over the dancers. It struck me then that while Henry may have known how to dance (Mother had spent a small fortune on him when he was younger.) Henrietta did not. I was about to go over to her when I saw Patricia moving toward her from the other side of the floor. Before either of us could reach her, who should approach her but Father! I know I am not imagining things because Elsie had taken a moment of respite from her beau and had taken up once again her sketch pad. Below is a visual record. As I had totally underestimated Elsie, I had done so also with Father. As I think on it Father has always been there for me whenever I have needed him, but I had thought of him up to today as a rather out of date stuffed shirt of a man, working as he did in the ultraconservative world of banking and finance. Oh, how my eyes have been opened ... in so many ways!

 

Now realize, that while I am referring to Henrietta and using appropriate feminine pronouns, all of us were aware in the back of our minds that that exquisitely feminine creature WAS male, was my brother. Most men of my fathers age confronted with a son so womanly in appearance and demeanor, would have been thoroughly disgusted and deemed him at the most mild, to use my brother's phrase, a sissy pants, even if they knew, as was the case with my brother yesterday, that he had been forced into the role. To know that their male offsprings were voluntarily adopting, proudly adopting, the role, would result in rage and perhaps the disowning of the hapless boys. My father stood before his beautiful son, his son who was garbed in an exquisite evening gown, crowned with a lovely ladies' hairstyle, who was gazing at him with a face that had to rival that of Helen of Troy, and smiled! He looked into Henrietta's eyes and messages were sent and received as she raised her hand and he took it in his and, bringing it to his lips, kissed it. He led her onto the dance floor and the band began to play. At that point, I also realized that my father had a sense of humor, as he had obviously requested the band to play the music to which they would dance, "The Gay Deceiver Waltz." Watching Henrietta in Father's arms, I could tell the moment she recognized the tune, as she threw back her head and laughed. The rest of the dancers, who had been a bit shocked at Father's choice and had hesitated to react till they saw how Henrietta would take such a musical statement of her condition, now joined with her in laughter, as they all spun around the floor.

After a complete circle of the floor, during which any awkwardness on Henrietta's part disappeared under Fathers superb guidance, father and daughter-for-an-evening came to a stop where Patricia was standing at the edge of the floor. Father bowed to Henrietta and passed her into the arms of her fiancee. As they whirled away, Patricia taking the man's part, I saw him standing there straight as an arrow gazing with what had to be pride at the couple. Mother joined him and her look held the same pride, only directed at that moment at him. Stalwart, having been appraised of Henrietta's true nature and the circumstances of the days events, whispered in my ear, without a hint of condemnation - in fact, with sincere appreciation - "My lord your brother makes a beautiful woman!" Because he then added, gazing into my eyes, "The second most beautiful woman in the Wentworth family!", I became, I'm sure, the happiest woman at the ball. Lord, I am proud of my father, and I shall let him know that that is so; however, I do not think I will appraise Mother of the fact that she placed third!"

By the time Stalwart brought me home, by the long route I might add, Mother and Father had already retired. I, myself, while tired, wanted both to hear what i suspected was the 'other half' of my brother's story and share some quality feminine conversation about my glorious, glorious evening with Stalwart and my hopes for the morrow. At that time I only anticipated having a sister for another day and, always having felt deprived for not having one, had decided to make the most of my time with her. Even with Henry a changed man for having experienced his feminine side, I cannot imagine I would feel free to converse girlishly with him were he not dressed the part.

Elsie had been returned home by her beau and was back into her uniform when I arrived. I asked her if she didn't feel a bit like Cinderella having to be a maid again after having attended the ball. I did not think I could be prouder of my parents than I already was, but when she responded by telling me that in almost any other household, even those here in enlightened Seneca Falls, that might very well be the case, but that Mother, and Father and I treated her with such courtesy that she could not help but feel that, while an employee, we all considered her an equal human being, I became more so. I blushed, though, as I believed that she had included me out of courtesy to my presence, I having realized during the day how little effort i had put into getting to know her. She went on to mention that while Henry had certainly been the 'fly in the ointment' of her employment, she had always felt he had a good heart and that there was a bit of a woman's soul lurking within, which had certainly been proved true in most dramatic fashion today. She and Henrietta, she said, were now fast friends and that she just knew come Monday, she and Henry would be also. She then presented me with the transcript of Henry's speech and the two sketches she had made, for which I thanked her profusely as she unlaced me and helped me into my nightgown and robe ( both in a pale rose shade). At that point, I heard the door open followed by a heartfelt sigh of pleasure and "Oh, Patricia." Upon the doors closing several minutes later, Elsie and I having resisted by a narrow margin the impulse to go and peek at the lovers from the stairwell, I asked Elsie to attend Henrietta and to ask her to join me in my bedroom; I also indicated that she was welcome to join us as our dear girlfriend. She thanked me but declined, saying, much as Mother had earlier, that this was a time for just sister and sister to converse. At her leaving, I opened "Graustark" a romance that Stalwart, of all people, had recommended to me. Is there a feminine side to all men? Well, now that I think on it, there must be, mustn't there, in all decent men. I Intending to read till my sister appeared, but was so 'keyed up' that I simply fidgeted till she floated into the room.

Yes, floated. I supposed that till that moment a small cynical part of me had expected that it would be Henry who would appear, having paid off his hired actress, laughing at me for my falling for his elaborate hoax. Not so. Henry was NOT present in the room! I could not get a word in edgewise as Henrietta raved on about the charms, beauty, and grace of the wondrous Patricia ad infinitum. This was no MAN describing HIS lady love; one could only imagine one of Sappho's daughters raising a prayer of adoration to her goddess lover in the rose marble temple on the Isle of Lesbos. (I know I am not supposed to know of such things, Mother, but if you are reading this it serves you right to know that your heretofore thought of as pristine daughter does!)

I was eventually forced to resort to stuffing one of my evening gloves, The pair of which, having been hidden by my covers, Elsie had not found to put away, into my eloquent sister's mouth on one of the few times I actually caught her taking a breath. She sputtered but, upon removing it, had the grace to apologize, not for what she had said, but for the length of saying it and, unknowing of the consequence, asked me how my evening with Stalwart had progressed. Had I been a gunner on the USS Oregon in pursuit of Admiral Cervera's fleet at the Battle of Santiago Bay, I could not have unleashed a salvo of explosive shells near as great as the salvo of ennobling verbiage I released in praise of my Knight in Shinning Armor. When I announced that I was sure that he would "pop the question" tomorrow, possibly in some secluded forest glen to which he would lead me from the heavily populated areas of the picnic grounds, Henrietta screeched and threw her arms around me. "Oh, sis," she exclaimed for joy, "we shall be engaged together!" I squealed and hugged her back and, as we had been both kneeling on my mattress, we bounced up and down, both squealing, till we were quite out of breath. We had acted, I was embarrassed to admit to myself, much like Patricia and I when, on an overnight stay at age 13, she had revealed to me how she was sure John Pinkerton had left a rose in her hat box that day at school. *Oh, well.* I thought, *Henrietta is not even a week old, let alone 13!*

Finally, with our romantic natures satisfied, I requested that MY BROTHER tell me what went between the lines of what Henrietta had spoken at the convention. I was amazed; one moment there was absolutely no doubt that there was my one hundred percent sister Henrietta kneeling across from me, the next it was ... well, not Henry exactly, at least not the old Henry, but a sort of Hybrid - Henry in the role of Henrietta, casting off the role for a moment while still staying enough into it to readopt it at a moments notice, but on the other hand, quite ready to abandon the outward signs of it for a return to pants, should that be desired. They, for there was I felt, at that moment in time almost two separate but joined entities occupying the body before me, much like a mental version of the Siamese twins we had seen at the Exposition in Chicago ten years ago - they, in fact, asked me just that, which I preferred physically at that moment, Henrietta or Henry, a male or female outward appearance. I replied that I was rather enjoying my sister and that I could wait till Monday to see her in pants!

He informed me that what Henrietta had spoken from the podium that afternoon was true and sincere. That his love for Patricia and his surety of her love for him had the day before brought about an epiphany. His reference to Saul and the road to Damascus was, he admitted, somewhat overly dramatic, but it was true, he had come to believe, that love conquers all. Given that my brother IS in love and therefore most likely does believe Patricia to be at least to some extent divine, I replied that I could, and had accepted that, but felt that there was more to my new sister's story than what had been revealed at the convention. He smiled. "Ah, sis," he said, "you know me too well."

He arranged himself into a slightly more masculine position on the bed and proceeded to give me that part of his conversion that diverged from the altruistic. A by-product of his epiphany, he told me, was that complaint and self pity - but not necessarily self interest - were cast aside and he began to think clearly again, partly about how to atone for his sins, but also partly about how to save himself. As a result of what Mother and I had done to him and what, under my direction, he was doing to himself, he concluded that if, upon the morrow, when released from skirts, he simply went back to being Henry, even though acting as he had become, the new and improved Henry, he would be ruined. Women would not trust that his conversion was sincere and men would, he knew, since he would have done the same had he been in their shoes, brand him a weak willed sissy pants and make his life miserable from then on. Since several men he knew planned also to attend Harvard, he knew that that reputation would follow him there. He would also, he said, though having rid himself of his own, wear around his neck those two Dickensonian chains forged by his companions in crime Charles and Daniel, who, he discovered at the tea following the afternoon at the convention, had not undergone similar spiritual epiphanies, and would certainly continue in the ways that had gotten them, and him, into trouble in the first place.

I told Henry that I had overheard Charles and Daniel's mother talking with Priscilla Parker and Hilda Johnston, the two young ladies at the tea, saying that since Charles and Daniel did not seem to have learned anything from the day's experience, more time as Charlene and Danielle might be necessary. Priscilla agreed and suggested that since they were acting like babies, perhaps the two "girls" should in the future be dressed more in line with their behavior. Hilda gleefully had volunteered herself and Priscilla to baby sit, as they had much experience in that occupation and in the "hairbrush" method of dealing with recalcitrant children. The humorous part, I told him, was that Mrs. Cooper had asked Mother to invite those two particular young ladies because she knew that the two boys were "sweet" on them and thus would be doubly humiliated to have the two see them in such ridiculous feminine garb. If, beforehand, I giggled, Priscilla and Hilda had reciprocated the two's romantic feelings, it was certainly clear that they no longer did so!

Henry said that he had suspected as much, and was even afraid that Mother and I might do the same to him if he did not show in some dramatic way that he had "shaped up."

I mentioned, amid more giggles, that "shaped up" given the feminine form before my eyes, was a quite suitable expression for what he had done, and he got quite a chuckle out of that. I went on to tell him that he had at least not been in danger of an extended girlhood, as Mrs. Cooper, upon leaving, had related her decision to Mother and I but had told us that at least our Henry appeared to have learned from his experience and trusted that such drastic measures as she and Priscilla and Hilda had planned for "her two little rufflebustles" would not be necessary in his case.

He was glad of that, but stated that, of course, he did not know that yesterday as he was contemplating his future. He WAS afraid that if he did nothing, adopted a neutral attitude so to speak, we would find him guilty by association. He was afraid that Mother and I, while not seeing the old behavior would, not seeing any new and dramatic positive behavior, be disappointed, perhaps to the extent of devising plans for more time in skirts for him, but he was even more afraid, terrified actually, of losing Patricia. With his new viewpoint, he had wondered why on earth she had accepted the proposal from such an immature chauvinistic fool as he had been. What could he do, and do soon, that would be dramatic enough to instantly convince the women. and particularly The Woman he cared most about in the whole world, of the validity and sincerity of his abrupt change of heart and mind, and earn the respect of the men who might otherwise think him weak and to be laughed at or pitied ?

I believe that what my brother then told me is so important that I am going to try and quote him now. I shan't be as accurate as earlier, because, unlike Elsie, I had neither the means , opportunity, nor skills to write it down. (Elsie has agreed to let me borrow her shorthand text, and I WILL learn it!) My memory is quite good, though, and I believe that if what I transcribe is not word for word, it is at least true to the spirit of what he said.

"As I pondered the problem," he said to me, I was, of course, still acting as you had taught me - lessons I had readily accepted because I believed they were the way women actually did behave - even though I now knew them to be wrong. The thought came to me that it wasn't so much the clothes, the outward appearance, that made was making me a subject of ridicule, it was my clearly visible attitude toward wearing them and my ridiculous behavior - thank you, sister dear - while wearing them; I realized I was not fooling anyone. I could imagine now that to the women watching I was not silly, but insulting as I had made it clear that I was feeling humiliated and degraded by having to wear the clothing of those I thought my inferiors."

I was amazed at his insight, because, as I wrote yesterday, that is exactly how I was feeling.

"And then it came to me. What if I voluntarily wore the clothing the clothing you women wear everyday, not a ridiculous outfit such as you had me wearing, and wore it proudly, and worked alongside you for the cause I now believed in. What if I looked a woman, a real one, a lady like you, sis, or Mother or Patricia, or Mrs. Stanton, head to toe and acted as one as a tribute to women rather than an insult. Women could not doubt my sincerity. Among men, the sight of a man acting humiliated usually leads other men to suspect, consciously or unconsciously, that he deserves to be humiliated. The reverse is true also. If I carried out my plan men would know that I was standing up for what I believed and they would respect me for it, I believed. And so my personal problems relating to my masculine reputation would be solved by acting feminine, truly feminine. Irony is wonderful, is it not, sis."

"I needed help, but I did not wish to go to either you or Mother because I knew that whatever I did had to convince you as well as everyone else. I decided to consult Elsie, who had worked with me during the evening and had not laughed at me or belittled me. As we ascended the steps after completing the cleanup, I asked her to help me prepare for bed, as I knew I could not unlace myself. She giggled and said she would come directly to my room to help me the same as she regularly helped you and Mother."

When I explained my desire and my thoughts on how to achieve it, Elsie told me that she thought that I would make a lovely young lady, that she had seen me changing throughout the evening, and that I was a very courageous man to bring out and publicly embrace my feminine nature. Amazingly to me, I found my self not only not humiliated and horrified by her statement, as I'm sure I would have been 24 hours earlier at even the hint that I had a feminine nature, but feeling proud that I had one and even anxious to allow it room to grow. Elsie told me, though, that I would be better served by discussing things with Patricia and securing her help. She said she would go to Patricia in the early morning with a message from me and bring back her reply."

"I did as Elsie had suggested, and she did convey the note to Patricia early this morning. My Dear Love wrote back telling me that she thought it was a wonderful idea, to come to her house immediately and she would help me prepare. With my new attitude, sis, it was actually fun, as I entered totally into the spirit of a young lady preparing to uphold her cause with her girlfriend, and to have fun doing it. That was most important Patricia told me - that to for my plan to work, I could not just act the part, I had to BE that young lady and that doing so would indeed test the sincerity of my conversion to the limits."

"It was so strange, sis, by the time we reached the chautauqua grounds, I no longer felt as if I was wearing a costume, I was simply wearing MY clothes. Up until you asked to speak to me just now; I WAS totally Henrietta. I know this because - and here I will tell you a manly secret: Men stand up to urinate. (I already knew that!) - but without thinking, I entered the ladies salon and water closet and sat to do so. I was out side again before I realized what I had done - and that only because Patricia, having gone in with me, was grinning and applauding me."

And then my brother really shocked me, as he said ...

"Do you know, sis, I rather like being Henrietta. When I was in Fathers' arms dancing - wasn't that so wonderful of him to do that with me! - I felt safe and protected and ... comfortable. I felt the same with Patricia as she took the man's part. I remarked on this to Patricia, and she told me that that was how she felt dancing with me as Henry. Is that how you feel when dancing with Stalwart? Patricia has told me that she quite likes Henrietta and would not be adverse to having her visit from time to time. Do you like having a sister, Emily? Would you like Henrietta to visit occasionally after tomorrow?

"Yes!" escaped from my mouth before I had time to consciously think upon the question. Immediately, Henrietta was back, and we once again bounced and squealed like schoolgirls. I must write a letter of commendation to J.W. Worthington and Sons, Boston, the firm which manufactured my bed, mattress, and pillows, as the fact those things did not break or tear under the strain of our girlish glee is a tribute to the quality of their work.

When finally we wound down, I told my dear brother/sister how proud I was of her and would be of him come Monday. I sent Henrietta off to spend the night in Henry's room, giving her one of my dolls from childhood to sleep with so as to mitigate somewhat the masculine atmosphere there and insure lovely feminine dreams. I then commenced to write this account.

Today a proposal of sisterhood from my brother, and tomorrow I will be the ecstatic recipient of Stalwart's proposal of marriage, I just know it !!!

And don't think any of us ladies have forgotten my father's declaration at the convention that he would attend our proposed slumber gathering in appropriate feminine garb. I plan to suggest to mother tomorrow that since Henrietta has expressed a desire to return from time to time, that she and I should arrange a 'slumber party' for a week hence and invite Henrietta, Patricia, Elsie, and a new girl, 'Georgette' ... Had you not already guessed, Father's first name is George!

By this time tomorrow I will be the future Mrs. Stalwart Hall !!

Good night.

 

PS - Perhaps mother would like to invite Mrs. Cooper to our party next week if Father is not too nervous about his womanly debut. I know we all would like to know what has transpired for those two adorable "rufflebustles", Charlene and Danielle.

Until next time, then ...

(Joyce Emily Hall, Vaingirls, Chicago, 1983: Stalwart did propose the next day, in much the manner Emily expected. I am their great-granddaughter. I found Emily's diary in a locked box in my father's bedroom closet when cleaning up his effects following his death in 1981. The key was in his safe deposit box. From the condition of the lock on the box, I doubt he ever opened it. I started Vaingirls never imagining that my penchant for feminizing males for their own good might be hereditary! In addition, it turns out that my friend and colleague Elizabeth, a transsexual woman, has as her fiancé Stuart Wentworth who is, I discovered upon an investigation sparked by the diaries, the great-grandson of Henry and Patricia. Life certainly is strange.)

  

  

  

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