Clothing and women’s lives
While some 19th-century people found that wearing the clothing of the gender they weren’t assigned at birth expressed who they actually were, more than one woman wore men’s clothing as a practical matter. Women traveling to California during the Gold Rush wore men’s clothing in order to mitigate the difficulties of traveling across Panama, with its days of getting into and out of small boats and dealing with uncertain sleeping arrangements. Others found that men’s clothing afforded them protection from harassment while traveling.
And, being swathed in yards of fabric meant that your hem could be stepped on and the skirt torn. It also made outdoor activities awkward, as Francis C. Woodworth—no fan of the clothing style popularized by Amelia Bloomer—observed: “I have been out with ladies, before now, on a botanical tour, when I could not avoid noticing that their mode of dress was very inconvenient for that kind of business; and at such a time, I don’t know that it would have struck me as at all unbecoming or improper, if those ladies, instead of the ordinary dress, had worn a genuine, out-and-out Bloomer suit”.
In 1838, one young medical student wore men’s clothing in order to pursue her studies at a time when medical students could “apprentice” with a doctor in order to learn the trade. Dr. Harriot Kezia Hunt and Dr. Sarah Hunt apprenticed with Elizabeth and Dr. Richard Dixon Mott and opened a practice in Boston, Massachusetts, in 1835, but Mercer County, Pennsylvania, was apparently not as progressive.
“Something Novel.” Wilkes-Barre Advocate [Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania] 7 March 1838; p. 3.
A respectable physician, in Mercer county, Pa. was recently suspected of having a young female studying medicine in male attire. On the strength of these suspicions, application was made to a justice for warrants to arrest the doctor and his student. These were granted, the arrests were made, the suspicions proved true and both were bound over in the sum of $500 each to appear at the March court.
The bond would be $15,184 in 2024—a hefty sum. That the doctor is “respectable” probably implies that he has no sexual designs on the student and that she isn’t prostituting herself; that the doctor is arrested implies that the crime is her gaining an education in medicine with his cooperation.
In 1849, a recent immigrant to the U. S. found that gender presentation was considered more important than comfort, even on muddy streets; the judge managed a rather tedious joke about women getting above themselves and “wearing the pants in the family”.
“Police Intelligence: A Pair of Pedlars.” New York Daily Herald [New York, New York] 7 September 1849; p. 2.
The police of the 12th ward arrested, on Thursday, a Dutchman by the name of Eugene Vines and his wife Emily, both rigged out as pedlars, in male attire. The police, at first, were puzzled to ascertain which was the wife, as they both looked so well in breeches. They were both taken before Justice Blakely, who, on examination, ordered the female to assume her petticoats and drop the pantaloons, and then discharged them from custody. The woman stated in Dutch, that the reason why she adopted the male attire was, in consequence of wet, bad weather; the petticoats were terribly in the way, and that with the pantaloons and boots she could get along quite nicely. The magistrate informed her most positively, that she must not attempt to wear the breeches again, as the law in this country did not permit the wife of any man to wear the breeches; nevertheless, a large number of our fashionable and educated ladies in this community, were in the habit of putting one leg in occasionally, notwithstanding.
And in 1852, a woman seeking work realized that working as a woman might earn her $4 a month (about $153 in 2024), while doing much the same labor as a man could earn her $30 (about $1,153 in 2024). While the letter from “M. M.” includes a description of the pleasures to be had in Minnesota, only the section about the woman is transcribed here.
“Minnesota: A Chapter for the Weaker Vesselites,” by “M. M.” New-York Tribune [New York, New York] 18 June 1853; p. 6.
TRAVERSE DES SIOUX, Wednesday, June 1, 1853.
In the remote and solitary forest of this great Western country occur many things worthy of recording, yet never knowing type. The following, I believe has never appeared in print—at least I have not seen it. It is too good to be lost at any time, but more especially in these days of heroinism.
In the early part of the winter of 1852, a young woman of St. Paul, stout of heart and strong of purpose, sought employment with but little success in her proper attire. She might indeed, in a few places, she thought, have a “chance.” Some guessed—well, they did not know but they would hire at four dollars a month; but from this miserable pittance, and still more miserable want of sympathy, her heart turned away in contempt. But what was she to do? Winter had fast set in. Already had he bedimmed the last ray of life on the face of the Father of Waters. Her lot was with the humble. Money she had but little. Work in the kitchen, and obey the orders of a St. Paul aristocratic family, she would not.
At this time men were busy, buying and preparing as if for a long journey. Teams were constantly passing loaded with provisions and bedding. She asked what this meant. “Oh! it is only going up to the pineries, they are,” she was informed. “To the pineries?” “Yes.” “How far are they?” “Well, from one to two hundred miles.” “How long do they work.” “Well, till Spring—till rafting time.” “What pay do they get?” “O! many pay twenty to thirty dollars; the cook gets more, sometimes forty.” “Do they all work together?” “No Miss, that would be a big gang of hands; they work from fourteen to thirty in a gang.” “Have they houses.” “No, they build them; it didn’t take long, a day and a half, about.” She thanked her informant, and went to her boarding-house to think over matters.
“I can cook,” she said. “I can chop wood, draw water, but oh! my sex. Oh! what a misfortune! If I was only a man, any kind of a man, I could get employment at four, yes five times more wages than I can now get. But God has willed otherwise. I will try to make the best of it.”
Considering well the risks she must run, the danger to person, health and morals in the dense, wild forest, cold and among such men as she instinctively thought they must be, and contrasting them with her little experience of kitchen life, her heart, yet smarting from the cold, calculating, repulsive humanity of kitchen mistresses, chose the former. Nothing now remained but to prepare and seek employment.
A thick plush cap, a pair of red flannel shirts, blue roundabout, coarse pantaloons, a pair of thick brogan boots and buckskin mittens were soon secured. Her feminine hair off, her masculine clothes on and behold in the street trudging awkwardly in heavy boots, an intelligent, smart looking young man seeking employment as cook. He was soon hired at thirty dollars a month. His party started to the woods, and in a few days he was “cook and boss of the shanty.” His party consisted of fourteen men; for these he should cook, find his wood and water, and never, said they, was a better cook in these pineries. Of beds they had one in which all slept. Clothes he seldom changed, but others just as seldom. This was no matter of surprise.
The young cook was soon a favorite, and his fame spread until many wished they had him. He could personify a modest young man, but not a man wood-chopper. Sensible of this he managed to cut his wood when the men were away, but unfortunately one saw him and immediately said, “That’s a woman.” It was noised about, the cook heard it, demanded six week’s pay, left and became a woman again.
…
Despite the headline probably added by the editor of the Tribune, the presentation of this woman’s story is sympathetic. “M. M.” has made some careful calculations in writing this: writing it up as a story makes the woman’s actions reasonable; it’s clear that the author is trying to ensure that the reader understands that she has a logical reason for appearing to be a young man. Also, that the woman is aware that it might look immoral; “M. M.” is careful to mention sleeping arrangements (apparently, fourteen or fifteen to a bed ensures that nobody gets frisky).
The writeup also emphasizes that her male identity is shrugged on like her male clothing: she appears “trudging awkwardly” in her boots; she’s naturally a good cook; the young cook is described as “modest”; once she’s identified as female, she takes her payment and, leaving, “became a woman again.”
Even if the story is read as fiction, it points up the wage gap: as a man, she can make four or five times what she could make as a woman doing pretty much the same work, though of course the better-paying job is in a more primitive and potentially dangerous situation (though, given what I’ve seen in 19th-century newspapers, there were many dangers in being a servant in the city, too). The author seems to feel that the wage gap is fairly accurate; and at least one other editor appears to have agreed, summing up the incident and remarking that the woman had “earned nearly as much in six weeks, as she would have received in somebody’s kitchen in St. Paul’s for a whole year. Surely there is a virtue in pantaloons,” that editor concluded. [“A Female Adventurer.” Alexandria Gazette [Alexandria, Virginia] 24 June 1853; p. 2.]
A number of 19th-century women would have agreed.
next: An American sailor is captured during the War of 1812
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Some works for adults, 1800-1872