Gender & Identity in 19th-Century America

Emma Snodgrass goes viral, 1852-1853

Around the time that Amelia Jenks Bloomer popularized her “rational” clothing style consisting of loose trousers gathered at the ankle and covered by a short skirt, Emma Snodgrass began a series of adventures that would be detailed in what seems to have been every newspaper in the U. S. Dressed in male clothing, Snodgrass was arrested again and again in more than one city. Snodgrass’s father was a New York City police officer (at least one newspaper claimed that Father was the Chief of Police), and a repentant Snodgrass was usually sent back to New York. And then left again, dressed in the preferred clothing.

Snodgrass just absolutely fascinated newspaper editors, who found the story entertaining, hilarious, and useful—it could, after all, be counted on to fill a column inch or two. (The editor of the Albany Transcript was teased for being apparently smitten by Snodgrass; unfortunately, the newspaper is unavailable.) Every movement seems to have been recorded, sometimes weeks after it occurred (which gets reeeeally confusing for later researchers). Also the clothing; Snodgrass’s wardrobe is constantly described.

Interestingly, an Emma Snodgrass who was a wanderer had appeared in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, a few months earlier.

“Correspondence of the Baltimore Sun: Runaway Boarding School Miss.” Baltimore Sun [Baltimore, Maryland] 26 August 1852; p. 1.

A young and very pretty girl, who appeared to be a runaway boarding school Miss, applied at the Mayor’s office last evening for a refuge for the night. She stated that she had traveled from York, Pa., and gave the name of Emma W. Smith, but as part of her apparel is marked Emma Snodgrass, it is quite likely that the latter is her name. She was taken care of, and will be retained until some of her friends claim her. It is thought that she belongs to Baltimore.

Was it our Emma Snodgrass? Not necessarily. Probably not the Baltimore Emma Snodgrass, either, who was married and in her 20s.

Emma Snodgrass’s viral appearance began with discovery on 15 November 1852.

“A Woman in Male Attire.” Boston Semi-Weekly Atlas [Boston, Massachusetts] 17 November 1852; p. 2.

On Monday discovery was made, that a person of about nineteen years of age, who has for some days past occupied a situation in the extensive wholesale clothes warehouses of John Simmons & Co., was, though dressed in male apparel, in reality a female. When charged with the fact, she acknowledged that she had left her parents in New York and had donned the pantaloons in order to escape discovery. She was provided with suitable apparel, and was sent back to New York yesterday. She called her name George Green, and stated that she came to this city with a man who promised to marry her.

(“Came to this city with a man who promised to marry”! Where have we heard this before?)

The Boston Bee provided a satisfying ending.

“Her Name.” Boston Daily Bee [Boston, Massachusetts] 20 November 1852; p. 2.

The name of the divinity in pants, who clerked it so famously in our city, turns out to be Emma Snodgrass, daughter of a worthy policeman in New York. Since her return she has become penitent, and has taken a solemn vow against all future breeches—whether of broadcloth, or female propriety.

(It’s “breaches” of propriety, Bee, but then your pun wouldn’t, perhaps, have worked for some of your audience.)

New York was just as fascinated and filled in Snodgrass’s story. Amelia Bloomer had by this time introduced the “Bloomer dress,” which made the women who wore it look like two-legged pumpkins.

“A Heroine in Breeches.” Brooklyn Daily Eagle [Brooklyn, New York] 22 November 1852; p. 2.

The Bostonians have been put in a flutter by the pranks of a young damsel, who was detected in that city in a garb which fashion does not countenance for the sex, even with all Mrs. Bloomer’s authority for it. It appears that some days ago, a young woman of 17 years, applied at Simmons’ great clothing establishment in that city, for a clerkship. Her decided smartness of manner and glibness of tongue were suggestive of a model clerk, and she was at once employed at clever wages. She excited no suspicions until the following Monday, when, in consequence, she left her situation. On that afternoon a despatch was received from New York, setting forth certain descriptive matters, which proved to resemble the model clerk to a nicety. She was hunted up at her boarding place, and committed to the care of a benevolent lady, to be kept until “called for” by her friends in Gotham. Her real name it is not necessary to mention—she had assumed the name of George Green. It is sufficient for us to say that she was a piquant, dashing, bright-eyed girl, full of life and swimming in romance. Her hair was cut man-fashion, and so were her manners, as may be inferred from the fact of her having passed through a week;s clerkship, undetected, among fifty men.

She says that while strolling in the gallery of the Art-Union, in New York, a few months since, she met a man of agreeable manners and of fashionable appearance, who was attracted by the same painting she herself was admiring; that he sat beside her, and for a long time admired the work of art; and at length they entered into conversation. She afterwards repeatedly met the same man in the same place. An intimacy and a mutual attachment was the result of these interviews. A short time since, she left New York for Albany, with the same man, who promised to marry her. At Albany they remained but a short time, and thence went to Boston, where she has been about a fortnight. There her hair was cut off, and she for the first time put on the pantaloons. This was done at her own request, in order that her parents should not find her. After appearing in her new dress she walked out with confidence. It was then decided that they should quit the hotel where they had been, and take new lodgings. The man went to another hotel, and the girl to a boarding-house. After getting employment at the clothing store she was placed where she last boarded, and where she remained when detected.—She was dressed in black pants, a round jacket, dark vest, and wore a Kossuth hat and feather.

Thus begins the tireless cataloguing of Snodgrass’s wardrobe.

What a good story! Disguised as a young man so her parents can’t find her! Seducer chastely living in a different place! Snodgrass’s explanation probably satisfied readers and, presumably, newspaper editors.

On November 24, however, Snodgrass was back in Boston, apparently to enjoy Thanksgiving, which at this time was a holiday celebrated only in New England.

“The Reappearance of Emma Snodgrass in Boston in Breeches.” Boston Herald [Boston, Massachusetts] 26 November 1852; p. 4.

This eccentric girl of seventeen summers, returned to this city on Wednesday, and stopped at a fashionable hotel in Washington street. She made her appearance in petticoats and delighted the boarders at the hotel with her sparkling conversation and modest appearance. It is stated that a young man came in her company who is stopping at another hotel. She visits Boston, as we are informed, to enjoy a New England thanksgiving.

On Wednesday evening she shed her petticoats and donned the pantaloons, and in company with a few choice spirits, made a tour of the city. Together they visited the theatres, and near the watching hour of night were seen in more than one of our noted dancing halls, where she appeared to enjoy the pleasures of the hour. Yesterday (encouraged by her success the night previous,) she appeared in the Hotel, and pas[s]ed the most of the day in her male attire. Suspicion, however, was rife that something was wrong in the life of this individual, and in the course of the day she was recognized by an officer, who briefly detailed her previous operations in a great clothing warehouse in this city, and her return to her friends in New York, where her parents reside.

The boarders at the hotel, when they found their associate was personating both sexes, were not a little chagrined, but they used philosophy and got over it. The real object of this visit and the previous one, of this girl, to Boston, will probably soon be made known. That she has one or more accomplices there is no doubt. She is cautious in her conversation, says she is up to the ways of mankind, is a friend to freedom of thought and action, and declares she is virtuous.

The word “mankind” here means men in general. It was becoming clear that Boston hadn’t forgotten Snodgrass’s earlier visit—and likely would keep remembering Snodgrass’s appearances. Charmingly, though, Bostonians appear both dazzled by Snodgrass and able to “get over” someone dressing as two genders in the same day.

The Boston Bee really, really was fascinated by all things Snodgrass and breathlessly reported allllll the details, though in its pages “George Green” had become “John Green.”

“More Romance and Eccentricity.” Boston Daily Bee [Boston, Massachusetts] 27 November 1852; p. 1.

Emma Snodgrass again in our City and in Breeches! When will wonders and romance cease? Our readers will recollect the very interesting figure which Emma Snodgrass cut in this city, last week, under the name of John Green—she who clerked it at Simmons & Co.’s, Water street.—She went home to New York and there in the most energetic and apparently sincere manner swore perpetual hostility to all roving in breeches. It was thought that her reform was complete—that she never more would infringe on the garmentable rights, at least, of mankind. But words, like appearances, are sometimes deceptive; and especially of female rovers in men’s clothes.

Yesterday, however, she was discovered in this city, arrayed in the full costume of a gallant man, and looking as takingly as the best fellow that paraded Washington street. This was a discovery indeed.

Here is the story of the romantic one. On Monday evening last she arrived in this city and took lodgings at the Washington Coffee House. Her appearance was that of a bona fide man, and of course excited no suspicion that she was otherwise. Her conduct, speech and conversation were those of a man, seemingly, up to the very last. She passed three days thus, going in and out of the house, sitting in the parlor, office, &c., and everything went off to her own and others’ satisfaction. In the meantime, a telegraphic message was received by the head of the Police, from her father, in New York, a high and most popular official in that city, stating that the romantic bird had taken wing a second time, and had probably come to Boston. The Police were accordingly instructed to keep a sharp lookout for the young maid in pants. They did so; and yesterday afternoon she was caged at the above hotel, to which she was followed by one of the Police.—She had been promenading Washington street, and “twigging” the girls in a most gallant manner. She was quietly, and without intimation to even the landlord, invited up to the Head of Police’s private office, where she was at once known as the Emma Snodgrass of last week;—but which is not her true name. She was dressed in an exceedingly neat coat, pants, cloth cap, and had upon her shoulders an elegant Bay State shawl, of the man kind. She confessed the pants, but did not appear in the least disturbed at the discovery, or at her arrest. She was as cool as an ice cream, and looked about as sweet.

Last evening she was taken to the house of one of our officials, under whose hospitable roof she will remain until her father arrives from New York. We learn, on close inquiry, that she is a girl of unimpeachable virtue, but of the greatest eccentricity; as may readily be believed from her most singular conduct in this city. The only way to account for her strange doings is, that she has a passion to corporeally line coats and pants, and that this passion amounts to a monomania.

At all events she is an odd affair, and is bound to create a sensation. What more we shall see. In the meantime our young men should keep their curiosity within moderate bounds. If there’s a good time coming, its [sic] no use to pluck the fruit of it before it is ripe.

Again the young man accompanying Snodgrass—who chastely stayed at a different hotel—had vanished from the story; did he ever exist? The editor of the Bee seemed quite taken with Snodgrass, who looks sweet as ice cream. (That “shawl, of the man kind” would become an argument later in the 1850s for the arrest of shawl-wearing men by women arguing that if they can be arrested for wearing men’s clothing, why aren’t men arrested for wearing shawls, which are associated with women? The argument didn’t go anywhere.)

The Bee just couldn’t leave Snodgrass alone, though George was back to being John.

“Emma Snodgrass.” Boston Daily Bee [Boston, Massachusetts] 27 November 1852; p. 2.

Emma Snodgrass, otherwise John Green, otherwise somebody else much more real, yesterday afternoon passed up Washington street, in breeches and hat. She is the lioness of the city just now. She is quartered on the generosity of a well known philanthropist, with the privilege of dressing as she pleases, providing she appears in full dress. It is said she desires to appear on the stage. Cannot some of our manages negotiate with her? It would prove a pattern card.

No, really. The Bee was fascinated, tracking Snodgrass’s every move. And George Green returned!

“Emma Snodgrass Again.” Boston Daily Bee [Boston, Massachusetts] 4 December 1852; p. 2.

Emma Snodgrass is still in pantaloons. Yesterday she turned up in Salem, where she cut quite a figure. She went into a jeweler’s store, to raise a few dollars on a long shawl which she presented for the purpose. The jeweler asked the name of the visitor, and was answered “George Green.” This led to further enquiries, and she finally confessed the cheat. She was arrayed in a neat and tasty suit of gentleman’s clothes, and conducted herself like a spruce young gallant.

And the Bee made a joke about teenaged girls. (Issues of the Bunker Hill Aurora for this year are unavailable to me.)

“All the Gallantry.” Boston Daily Bee [Boston, Massachusetts] 6 December 1852; p. 2.

The editor of the Bunker Hill Aurora says that Emma Snodgrass ought to be secured in some hospital for the insane. The editor has no daughters, in pants or out.

By now Snodgrass was being seen all over New England. On December 4, it was Lowell, Massachusetts, where Snodgrass was sent on to the next stop.

“In Town.” Lowell News; reprinted in Boston Herald [Boston, Massachusetts] 6 December 1852; p. 4.

Emma Snodgrass, the little New York pseudo boy, was caught in Lowell, on Saturday, having turned up at the American House, where she was recognized. Marshal Sned took Emma under his fatherly wing, and provided an apartment for her at his office till afternoon train for “down east,” where she was bound, and on board of which she was placed.

Emma says she was in town Tuesday, went through all the mills, stopped at the Merrimack House, Tuesday night, passing here both times as Henry Lewis.—Lowell News.

The new identity was a good idea, but the newspapers having printed it would make using it difficult; this probably was the point of publishing it. Snodgrass, however, used the name more than once.

On to Maine and right into the cleverness of a Bath newspaper editor.

“Master Emma Snodgrass.” Eastern Times [Bath, Maine] 16 December 1852; p. 2.

Master Emma Snodgrass has been showing him-self “down east.” He sported up the Kennebec last week, and called for cigars at the hotels with the ease of a gentleman.

On December 9, Snodgrass visited New Hampshire.

“Miss Emma Snodgrass.” Boston Herald [Boston, Massachusetts] 11 December 1852; p. 2.

Miss Emma Snodgrass, the romantic young lady in pants, was in Portsmouth, N. H., last Thursday, and created a most profound sensation.

More details appeared in a newspaper unavailable to me.

“The Girl in Breeches.” New Hampshire Patriot; reprinted in Louisville, Daily Courier [Louisville, Kentucky] 24 December 1852; p. 2.

This notorious character, known by the name of ‘Emma Snodgrass,’ arrived in town on Saturday evening, and stopped at the Eagle Hotel, where she registered her name as ‘Henry Louis, Augusta.’ While she was at tea, it became known that she was a girl in breeches, and when it was told her, she did not deny it; but at the landlord’s request she left the house. She went to the Columbian Hotel, and engaged a room, and then went out with a citizen and visited the rvstaurateus, [sic] billiard rooms, &c. She remained at her hotel very quietly during Sunday and Monday forenoon, where she attracted much attention, as every one knew what she was. She visited the State House in the morning, and in the afternoon left in the cars for Boston:—N. H. Patriot.

And was soon back in Boston and attempting to enjoy the stay.

“Emma Snodgrass.” Boston Daily Bee [Boston, Massachusetts] 15 December 1852; p. 2.

Emma Snodgrass was at the Museum, last evening. She sported a model cane, Kossuth hat, frock coat, pants, &c., not to mention an ambitious shirt-collar and flaming scarf. She apparently enjoyed the play for a while, but finding she was too generally recognised, she left “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” at the third act.

The version of Uncle Tom’s Cabin playing at the Museum had five acts, so Snodgrass missed much of the play.

Boston—or at least its newspaper community—was Snodgrass-crazy, which couldn’t have made Snodgrass’s time there comfortable.

“Distinguished Arrival.” Boston Statesman [Boston, Massachusetts] 18 December 1852; p. 2.

“Henry Lewis, Esq.” arrived in this city on Monday evening from “Augusta Me.,” and “took tea” at the Bromfield House, then proceeded to the Marlboro’ Hotel, and booked for lodgings and breakfast. After breakfast “Henry” settles up, and called for a coach and left for the Western Railroad depot, en route for the Falls. This individual is young, handsome, and we may add, is the perfect image, in every particular, of Miss Emma Snodgrass, the Miss in pants.

By now, Snodgrass could go nowhere without a newspaper story following. The cynical reader in the 21st century no doubt has begun to wonder how many young male Bostonians were being identified as Emma Snodgrass—or how many newspapers were improving on an editorial prank. (Such pranks being not unknown in antebellum newspapers.)

“Writing On the Wall.” Boston Daily Bee [Boston, Massachusetts] 18 December 1852; p. 2.

Emma Snodgrass yesterday visited the Custom House, where she lionized for some time. Just before she left the granite tomb she placed the following “writing on the wall:”

T. G.—I have come and you was not here; I have not received that yet; I will see you at J. H. tonight at ten o’clock. Yours, Frank.

Undoubtedly that mysterious “that yet” was had at ten.

She also visited the Merchants’ Exchange Reading R[o]om, where she attracted the swelling eyes of the nabobs, who collected around her, in evident admiration. Snodgrass stock will very soon pay 12 per cent. at this rate.

The Bee couldn’t resist passing on a joke.

“The Nashua Telegraph.” Boston Daily Bee [Boston, Massachusetts] 24 December 1852; p. 2.

The Nashua Telegraph speaks of “Emma Snodgrass” as “the girl in what-d’ye-call-ems.”

But was grousing that the situation was getting monotonous.

“The Mail.” Boston Daily Bee [Boston, Massachusetts] 28 December 1852; p. 2.

The Mail is “down” on Emma Snodgrass. She is about run into the ground; that’s a fact. Emma ought to turn over a new leaf and become what nature made her—a woman.

On December 28, Snodgrass was arrested for vagrancy by police officer George Oliver.

“The Police vs. Emma Snodgrass, Again.” Boston Times 29 December 1852; reprinted in Nashville Union and American [Nashville, Tennessee] 8 January 1853; p. 2.

It is well known that Emma Snodgrass in petticoats, alias George Green in breeches, has for some time been about here in gents’ apparel and mixed pretty extensively with all sorts of society. But yesterday forenoon, on a warrant issued by Justice Russell of the Police Court, she was arrested and is now confined in the lock-up. She will be arraigned in the Police Court to-day at 10 A. M., when we shall see under what form of complaint she is to be victimized. It must be something else than the mere fact of her wearing breeches. What is it? Common loafer—suspicious person—vagrant—or has she been doing some other naughty thing?—Boston Times, 29th.

Snodgrass’s appearance in court drew a crowd.

“A Multitude in the Police Court.” Boston Herald, 3rd edition [Boston, Massachusetts] 29 December 1852; p. 4.

The Police Court room was, this morning, the scene of extraordinary attraction. Every inch of the floor held a leg, while in the passage-ways of the court-house and outside the building, there were at least a thousand persons, anxious but unable to gain an entrance to the court room. The occasion for this extraordinary convocation was the examination, before Judge Russell, of Emma Snodgrass, alias Henry Lewis, on a complaint of being a vagabond, and an idle person, neglecting all lawful means of support.

The defendant was dressed in pants, black vest, dickey, and a black cravat. She wore a pilot cloth overcoat, and held in her hand a jaunty little cane. She was cool, calm and self-possessed. Whatever she may be in the dress appropriate to her sex, she is far from being good looking dressed as a boy. She is pale and fragile.

The defence was ably conducted by Benj. F. Russell, Esq. Four or five witnesses were examined for the government. There was no evidence to support the complaint; on the contrary, it was proved that she has a home in New York city, and that she had employment in this city, and is desirous to obtain further employment. The witnesses were cross examined at length by Mr. Russell. Two witnesses testified to the uniform good conduct of the defendant, so far as they had seen her. Justice Russell said the complaint had not been substantiated, and ordered the defendant to be discharged.—Whereupon the crowd left the court room, and the excitement subsided. The defendant will return to New York this afternoon.

The Boston Evening Transcript took this chance to tout local political celebrities who aided Snodgrass’s defence, including “one, bearing the name of our first Presidents” and “a promising namesake of the presiding Justice in the case … his well known democratic sympathies being aroused to the vindication of personal liberty, and the most lenient construction of the law.” And seemed to wonder how anyone saw Snodgrass as male: “She was today dressed in her usual male attire, which is really little or no disguise, her form being so light and fragile, and her features and manner so entirely feminine.” (“The Girl in Pants.” Boston Evening Transcript [Boston, Massachusetts] 29 December 1852; p. 2)

The New York Tribune’s coverage of Snodgrass’s appearance in court ignored the audience, but gave a richly detailed account of the proceedings.

“Movements of Emma Snodgrass.” New-York Tribune [New York, New York] 31 December 1852; p. 7.

The New-York girl, whose queer doings in male attire have so puzzled the Bostonians, was arrested in the latter city on Wednesday, and taken before Justice Russell, charged with being a vagrant. She was called under the names “Emma Snodgrass,” “George Green,” and “William Lewis,” and accused of wandering about from place to place, without means of support. Miss S. stepped upon the stand, being still in male apparel, with a cane in her right hand, and answered “Not guilty.” B. F. Russell appeared as her counsel. There were five witnesses for Government, viz: Messrs. Geo. W. Oliver and Harrison Marsh, the Officers who arrested her, Police Officer Galen Holmes, Deputy Chief of Police, W. D. Baton, and Mr. Millikin, hotel-keeper. Mr. Oliver and Mr. Marsh testified that they had seen herin the street in male apparel five or six times: that she never to their knowledge behaved in an improper manner (except in wearing a man’s dress) and never, so far as they knew, begged of any one, she stated to them that she thought of either going to work here or of returning to New-York. Mr. Holmes first saw her in the Police Office a month ago, at the time of her first arrest; she was in male apparel, and was then arrested in consequence of a telegraphic dispatch from her father in New-York that she had run away; she stated that she left home because she wanted to see a little of life and was bound to. She was always willing to pay her expenses, and while in custody of the police her supper was paid for from her own money. The witnesses could not swear that she had no means of support, and there had been no complaint made at the Police Office that her bills have not been paid. John Augustus testified that at the time of her first arrest she was taken to his house, where his wife clothed her in female apparel, a part of the expense of which was paid from her own money. She then went back to New-York with her brother; he again saw her at the Police Office in male apparel on the day before Thanksgiving; ten days ago she came to his house and received the male suit which she had previously left there. Her behavior was always good, never drinking or smoking. One reason given by her for putting on male apparel was that she could not bear women’s clothes. She appeared anxious to get a situation. Mr. Eaton testified that she had never been complained of as a beggar, but that numerous complaints had been made of her going about in male apparel. Her father, Mr. Snodgrass, is Assistant Captain of the First Ward Police in New-York.

Mr. Milliken, hotel-keeper, testified that the defendant had frequently boarded at his house, where her behavior was correct. She was always willing to pay her bills. In conversation with her she stated that there was a person in her father’s house whom she did not like, either a mother-in-law or house-keeper; appeared to be anxious to go to work; she stated that a chance had been offered to her in a book-store in Court-st.; she gave as one reason why she wore male apparel, that her health was better. This closed the Government case. For the defense, Mr. Russell, (her counsel) and Mr. Wentworth, another lawyer, testified that they saw her in male apparel at the Mansion House in Salem, where her conduct was correct, and the fact of her being a woman was not suspected until the next morning. The Court remarked that, according to the testimony of the Government the defendant had a means of support (at Simmons’s) until it was broken up by her arrest by the Police; their testimony also showed that she had a home in New-York. He, therefore, ordered her to be discharged. She was then taken into the Judge’s Room, where she received some good advice from his Honor relative to resuming the habiliments of her sex and returning to her father’s house, which she promised to do. For a month past she has been in the habit of lodging in different hotels, appearing on ’Change, and other public places. The city officials have been somewhat puzzled as to the means of putting a stop to her proceedings.

There was a police officer named Snodgrass in Ward 1, New York City, in 1850: James Snodgrass, age 40, born in Wales and presumably the father of Julia, age 13, and William, age 11; no spouse is listed in the census. (Record Group 29; Series M432 #534; page 60; house 315, family 835. New York, New York, Ward 1 Eastern Division) This will not be the only attempt to identify Snodgrass’s family.

Snodgrass’s celebrity was spiked with some malicious joking.

“Read that amusing sketch.” Boston Herald [Boston, Massachusetts] 30 December 1852; p. 4.

Read that amusing sketch of “Emma Snodgrass” and her last love affair in Lowell, published in the American Union for this week. Sold by all dealers.

And Snodgrass’s wardrobe provided inspiration.

“Donning Male Attire.” Boston Herald [Boston, Massachusetts] 31 December 1852; p. 4.

Since the peculiarities of Emma Snodgrass have become so familiar to the public, the custom of ladies promenading the streets in coat and pants is getting to be rather common. Almost any evening some of these unsexed individuals may be seen in Washington street, creating a sensation among romantic loving young men.

Having had charges of vagrancy dismissed, Snodgrass wasn’t charged when again arrested at the end of December, but a companion was.

“Arrest of Female in Male Attire.” Daily Atlas [Boston, Massachusetts] 1 January 1853; p. 2.

Yesterday morning, officer Robert Anderson arrived in this city from New-York, to take into custody and convey to her father, Miss Emma Snodgrass, the girl-boy. She was taken into custody at the Providence Depot by police officer Warren, who found in her company what appeared to be a young man, dressed in a pea-jacket, Kossuth hat, vest and pants, but who was soon discovered to be another young woman in male apparel, who was about to accompany Miss Snodgrass to Providence. They were both taken to the office of the Chief of Police. The companion of Miss Snodgrass at first gave the name of Louis Fitzherbert, but afterwards that of Harriet French. She has a mother in New Bedford, but has latterly been living at the house of Mr. Augustus, in this city. Miss French was brought before the Police Court under the charge of vagrancy, and sentenced to the House of Industry for 2 months. Miss Snodgrass appeared as a witness in the case. She was taken back to New York yesterday afternoon. Miss French is of medium stature, and made a very good-looking youngster.

Before the court appearance, dozens flocked to see them: “It was certainly as strange a sight to see Aldermen, Common Council men, School Committee men, brokers, lawyers, doctors, hotel keepers, merchants, and clerks, rush in to see these poor, deluded women, as was the appearance of the women themselves,” the Boston Traveller pointed out. (reprinted in “A Strange Man.” Lancaster Examiner [Lancaster, Pennsylvania] 5 January 1853; p. 3) The Bee took care to inventory French’s wardrobe—”Kossuth hat, shiny gaiters, model cane, black pants, coat, and all that”—and claimed that French was sentenced to the House of Reformation for six months, with the sentence commuted if she left the city within twenty-four hours. (“Another Breeze Among the Breeches.” Boston Daily Bee [Boston, Massachusetts] 1 January 1853; p. 1)

The next month, Snodgrass traveled again to Boston.

“Back Again.” Boston Daily Bee [Boston, Massachusetts] 26 January 1853; p. 2.

Emma Snodgrass returned to this city, yesterday, from New York. She paraded Washington street in the afternoon, evidently feeling uncommonly felicitous. It beats all, it does.

It was up to the Atlas to describe her wardrobe: “Emma Snodgrass, of New York, was again in town yesterday, dressed in male attire. She wore a cloth cap, clay oversack, dark pants, white stockings, and patent leather bootees.” (Daily Atlas 26 January 1853; p. 2).

Snodgrass enjoyed all the delights Boston had to offer: a fire being put out, a snack at 11 p.m. And had to endure the vocal disapproval of strangers.

“Emma Snodgrass.” Boston Daily Mail [Boston, Massachusetts] 5 February 1853; p. 4.

About 11 o’clock last evening, shortly after the fire at the Adams House, the notorious Emma visited Vinton’s confectionary establishment, and upon coming out a large crowd of boys, who had assembled, expressed their disgust and detestation of her conduct by groans and hisses, and were only prevented by the presence of policemen, from giving still stronger evidence of their determination to put a stop to her disgraceful actions.

Though “her presence now creates but little attention, from the general impression that she has just as good a right to wear coat and trousers, as skirt and bonnet,” the Boston Herald concluded that “If she does not take the hint and leave town, she will find that there are further troubles in store for her.” (“Emma Snodgrass.” 5 February 1853; p. 4)

However, Bostonians were still obsessed.

“Stampede Among the Merchants.” Boston Daily Mail [Boston, Massachusetts] 9 February 1853; p. 2.

At a sale of liquors which took place yesterday forenoon, in the basement of the custom house. There was a collection of about 200, interested in the “traffic” of the article. At the interesting point of “going, going, gone,” by the auctioneer, word was passed that Emma Snodgrass was passing down Long Wharf, and immediately there was a general stampede of nearly all the company present, and a temporary suspension of the sale took place to allow the dealers in the ardent to gratify their more ardent curiosity of looking at the usurper of pants and dickies. This being gratified, there was a spirited bidding until the close of the sale. If there is a rise in the price of rum—, well no matter about the price of linen.

Snodgrass’s activities were widely reported, usually in a column inch or two.

“Emma Snodgrass.” Buffalo Morning Express [Buffalo, New York] 17 February 1853; p. 2.

Emma Snodgrass, the girl in pants, is again flourishing in Boston. On Thursday, she visited the opera, sat in a corner box, wore an artificial moustache and whiskers, and used the opera glass familiarly as a dandy.

The editor of the Daily Gazette and Comet in Louisiana suspected that Snodgrass’s activities were detailed precisely because they could fill an inch or two.

“Miss Emma Snodgrass.” Daily Gazette and Comet [Baton Rouge, Louisiana] 15 March 1853; p. 2.

Miss Emma Snodgrass—a relative to the Pickwickian Snodgrass, is determined she will not be a woman, that is if we are to credit the papers; but we are inclined to think that the printers keep this item standing for “fat.” When they are pushed for an item of a few lines they put in “Miss Emma Snodgrass turned up again.” This is decidedly wrong. Miss Emma Snodgrass appeared for the first time in male attire at Albany, from thence she went to Cayuga, where the item of her “turning up[“] was made. We hope the press for gallantry sake will let Miss Emma alone, and distribute the article about her “turning up.”

But the press wasn’t gallant, and Snodgrass’s visit to Albany was as publicized as the visits to Boston.

“Local Matters: Emma Snodgrass.” Albany Evening Journal [Albany, New York] 18 March 1853; p. 2.

Emma Snodgrass, the lady of newspaper notoriety—the wanderer in man’s apparel—who some time since created a great deal of talk in Boston, and, finally brought before the Police Magistrate of that city, has at last paid us a visit. The Express says that she “put up at the Exchange Hotel, registering her name as ‘Henry Lewis, Boston.’ She visited the Museum, and yesterday morning strolled around town. The fact leaked out, and she began to attract a good deal of attention; so while engaged in viewing the architectural beauties of the Exchange, she was requested to view the Second District Station House and be introduced to Chief Morgan. She evaded, at first, her identity, but finally frankly owned up.

“She is about twenty, petite, quite pretty and a very intelligent looking girl; her eye is beautiful and expressive, and on the whole she makes a very passable boy. She gave her history in a straight-forward manner. Her father is one of the police of New York, her mother is dead, and she asserts that since an unfortunate attachment and desertion, which she experienced some year or so ago, she has had an unconquerable desire for roaming. She avowed, and apparently sincerely, that except the peculiarity which had made her notorious, she was exempt from anything reprehensible. Her only desire was to be constantly on the move, to see the world, and, if possible, fall in with her betrayer. She expressed much sympathy for her father, but could not bear the monotony of home.

“Emma, being asked if she preferred the male garb to that of her own sex, as an apparel, answered to the satisfaction of the most ultra Bloomer. She left in the afternoon cars on her way to Chicago, St. Louis, &c.; ultimately, she says, either California or Australia, will be her destination.

“Emma deported herself like a very genteel young man while here, visiting the different attractions of the town, and patronizing Bendall’s barber-shop with a nonchalance which justified the ‘have a shave, sir?’ Bendall must have ached for an application of his “Restorative” on that beardless chin.

“Chief Morgan, on her being brought to the Station House, gave her some very excellent advice, which she becomingly received, and gracefully thanked him for. But Emma is still obdurate.”

How much “excellent advice” Snodgrass gracefully endured! Deprived of stories about Snodgrass, some editors joshed with each other. Announcing that Snodgrass had visited Albany, the Boston Bee joked that “The editor of the Albany Transcript seems to have been smitten with the young lady. Something may be expected.” (19 March 1853; p. 2) The Transcript apparently quipped back, “Rather a broad insinuation, that. We have passed the time for being ‘smitten,’ and although only a score and a quarter in years, can look upon these fleeting shows with all the composure of an anchorite. Can our cotemporary say as much?” (“Cotemporary” is an archaic spelling of “contemporary.”) “Yes, and a good deal more,” the Bee replied. “We can say most anything. ‘Can our cotemporary say as much?’ Where’s Emma?” (23 March 1853; p. 2)

By now Snodgrass had gone west.

“Miss Emma Snodgrass.” Louisville Democrat; reprinted in Boston Herald [Boston, Massachusetts] 5 April 1853; p. 2.

Miss Emma Snodgrass, the girl who created considerable excitement in some of the eastern cities recently by parading the streets in male attire, passed through this city on Tuesday, en route for California. She travels under the assumed name of Henry Jones, and wears a frock coat, glazed cap, and is about 4 feet 6 inches high. She sports a fine gold watch, walking cane, &c., and has the appearance of a very respectable youngster.—Louisville Democrat, 31st.

Meanwhile, the Cleveland Leader editorialized that women should be able to wear what they want. “Fanny Fern” was Sarah Payson Willis, who at this time was publishing enormously popular articles and books extolling the dignity of women.

“We cannot imagine.” Cleveland Leader [Cleveland, Ohio] 31 March 1853; p. 3.

We cannot imagine what right an officer has to arrest a person on account of any peculiarity of dress; but certain it is that this is done. Emma Snodgrass has been arrested at various times, in many places, for the alarming crime of wearing pants. A “bloomer” can parade the streets without offending the “majesty of the law,” or run any risk of displeasing the “guardians of public peace;” but let a woman don a pair of pants, and she soon finds herself in the “lock up.”—Nothing could be more unlawful. It shocks the modesty of the police, and while they allow certain “young bucks” dressed more ridiculous and foolish, to walk unmolested, they quickly pounce upon a “woman in pants.” When brought up to answer for her crime, before the tribunal of a “Squire,” she is of course dismissed, for no charge can be preferred against her. We would like to hear “Fanny Fern” speak on this subject, and we would like our police to attend to the proper duties of their offices, and not arrest a poor woman, because she chooses to dress in the most convenient style.

This, of course, was just in time for Snodgrass to be arrested in Cleveland, much to the sarcasm of the Leader.

“Great Excitement!” Cleveland Leader [Cleveland, Ohio] 14 May 1853; p. 3.

Great Excitement! Important Arrest—Fearful Developments expected—City in commotion—Valor of our brave Police!—It is with great pleasure that we announce to our readers that one of our police, Clak Warren, has, with his accustomed celerity, arrested—who? A young girl! Yes, this brave guardian, Warren, of our city’s peace, yesterday morning arrested Emma Snodgrass.

It may reflect credit upon him, but, in our opinion, it is very small business for a man to march a young lady as a prisoner through our streets for the great offence of wearing pants. Heavens, what a crime! How Emma’s dress, or rather pants, must have made the police blush, and how much credit is due them, we leave this question for the public to answer.

And Snodgrass finally faded from the public eye.

“It is said.” Detroit Free Press [Detroit, Michigan] 13 June 1853; p. 2.

It is said that Emma Snodgrass has repented, gone home, taken off her breeches, and sworn eternal attachment to petticoats and propriety.

This sentence appeared in newspapers across the country.

What a happy ending for the story! The repentant outsider has learned her lesson and become the modest maiden; and everyone can relax because the status quo has been restored.

Though perhaps not. Perhaps Snodgrass just managed to avoid arrest. Or perhaps the newspaper editors simply quit pursuing this particular individual and this particular story.

previous: Frances Wilson escapes from jail, 1850
next: A dressmaker, 1853

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