A Charley or two, 1855-1856

“A Nymph in Pants.” The Daily Picayune [New Orleans, Louisiana] 3 November 1855; p. 2.

The pastoral policeman of Lafayette Square yesterday arrested a female, about seventeen or eighteen years of age, who had donned the toggery of manhood, and puffed vigorously behind a twisted roll of the Virginia weed. With a merry leer from the “laughing devil in her eye,” the disguised nymph tried to persuade the pastoral Dan that he was mistaken as to the gentle character of her sex: “But, no,” says Dan, “you can’t fool me—you’re no boy, or I never was one!”

Against so set an opinion as this the nymph—who had assumed the masculine name of Charley Smith—thought it useless to contend, and so caved in, confessed her sex and told the story of her life.

Whether, in the strange tale of her adventures, there was more of romance than reality, we leave for others to judge. We give a few outlines as she related them.

Charley—we will still call her Charley, as she begged that her real name might not be made public—said that her parents died when she was quite young, and she was left in the charge of guardians. Her relations chiefly lived in New York and this city, but she was taken by her guardians to Boston, where, in a luckless moment, she loved, perchance “not wisely.” Thereupon her relations and fashionable friends discovered her, and eventually she was induced to put on masculine apparel and go to sea. As a cabin-boy she made three voyages from New York to Liverpool. Afterwards she was employed for a while in a barber shop; then in a grocery store, and eventually as a barkeeper in a tap-room, and as a “spotter” for the New York police.

No very practical experience, the reader may exclaim—but we are telling the story as Charley herself tells it, and she alone is to blame if she has made her experience of too prosaic a character.

After detailing her adventures as above to the Recorder, she appealed to that worthy functionary’s gallantry to “let her off easy.”

The Recorder said that there was no complaint against her for any impropriety of conduct. As to dress that was altogether a matter of taste, especially among the “strong-minded” women of the North, and as she had no female apparel, he was sure that he would not force her to take off what she had—although she was “sailing under false colors.” He, however, advised her to go back to her own sex as soon as possible, and having so advised, he bade her “God speed.”

She thanked him and left; but before going told something more of her experience to a sympathetic “searcher of the truth,” who happened to be present.

“Arrival Extraordinary.” New Orleans Crescent [New Orleans, Louisiana] 3 November 1855; p. 3.

No little commotion existed around Recorder Bright’s office yesterday, owing to the presence of Charles Smith, alias Harry Lindon, a character well known in New York, who arrived here via Mobile a few days ago, and was arrested yesterday morning by officer Dan Busby, at the corner of Poydras and St. Charles streets. The way of the arrest was as follows:

Busby, while standing at the corner talking with a friend, noticed a rather good-looking, curly-haired youth of about nineteen, sitting on a table in the Crystal Palace coffee-house. He had on a black cloth cap, a light seedy-looking coat, black pants, and a spotted calico shirt, so dirty that the folds of the big silk neckerchief had been spread out to conceal the bosom—his whole appearance being that of a stranger in a strange land, without a change of clothing or any pocket-money. Dan looked, and looked again, and finally made up his mind. Then followed the following confab: “Come out here, young man, want to speak to you.” The youngster came out. “What do you dress up in that kind of a way for—why don’t you wear your own proper kind of clothes?” “You’re a d—d old fool.” “Maybe I am, but I know you’re a woman.” “Perhaps you’d like to bet something of [sic] it.” “Yes, I’ll bet any thing,” said Dan, suddenly placing his hand on the youth’s breast, “for men don’t generally pad so thickly as this.” The youth quickly pushed his hand away, and confessed to being a woman. Dan then colored up, begged her pardon, and invited her to accompany him on a visit to his friend G. Y. Bright, Esq., which invitation was accepted.

On their way to the office the woman told Dan a history, either real or fictitious—that four years ago, being an unprotected girl in Boston, she was seduced, deserted, etc.—that two years and eight months ago, by the advice of a man who pretended to protect her, she donned male attire, and had adhered to it without intermission ever since. That in her disguise she had made three trips to Liverpool and back, as a knock-about on shipboard—had been a bar-tender, a barber’s assistant, clerk in a grocery, a book-keeper, and had been employed by a captain of police (to whom her sex was known) to spot thieves and suspicious characters—all in New York. That recently she left New York, in company with a male protector, and, passing as his brother, came South, to Savannah by steamer, to Montgomery by railroad, and thence to Claiborne, over a hundred miles, on foot, and the rest of the distance by steamer, leaving her protector in Mobile. From this protector she showed a letter, beginning “Dear Charley,” and ending with “be a good girl.” Why she came on here without him, and without money, she did not explain. She further stated that on arriving here on Wednesday, she put up at the Alabama House on the Levee, but having no money, was on the following day denounced as a thief, turned out of doors, and what little surplus clothing she had, detained; that since then she had had nothing to eat, and had, before her arrest, been looking around among the coffee-houses for a job as bar-keeper’s assistant.

Arraigned before the Recorder, she boldly but politely stated her status—admitted that she might get along better in female attire, but said she had neither money nor a friend to furnish her with a proper suit of clothes—and expressed her desire of knocking around and looking for employment of some kind, which she could not get without wearing the breeches. Her manner was so straightforward and seemingly honest, that the Recorder discharged her, advising her either to change her garb or getout of town as soon as possible. She thanked him heartily, and then turning to the officers, reporters, and spectaters, [sic] asked them not to point her out or draw people’s attention to her, should they meet her in the street. She left with officers Busby and DeCoursey, took a drink with them at a neighboring coffee-house, and then returned and beseeched the reporters not to mention her proper name, which she had given to Dan Busby as Julia Ann Ross. [We would not in this way go against her request, only that we know that some of the other reporters less accommodating than ourself, will not do it, and of course we must not be behind.] She made this request, stating that her mother (now dead) had respectable relatives here, who might not let her remain unmolested.

This singular creature would not be taken for a woman by one man of a thousand meeting her on the street. She chews tobacco, smokes big cigars, has the walk and general appearance of a boy, with a free-and-easy swagger, and Dan Busby would not have detected her, but by seeing her raise her hand over her head, which caused an undue development of her bust. Her features and voice are such as any one would take for those of a boy. Busby took her in the afternoon to the house of a female acquaintance of his, furnished her with a clean shirt, neckerchief and pair of socks, from his own wardrobe, and left her for the time being. So much did hse resemble a young man that the woman of the house at first refused to believe she was anything else. Her feet were found to be somewhat swollen and sore, giving a coloring of truth to her statement that she had footed it from Montgomery to Claiborne.

Last evening we saw her again at the police office, in her clean shirt, her hair sleeked up, and looking more masculine th[a]n ever. She was cultivating amicable relations with the police, probably with a hope of being added to their force; vaunting her prowess, not in a physical way, but as a “shadow,” to follow, watch, etc. The police, of course, treated “Charley” with all due politeness and cordiality, but seemed privately to think that she would bear watching at the same time. What sort of a “sardine” Charley will prove to be, is “further along.” She can take our hat, at any rate.

“Local Affairs: Romance in Real Life: A Queer Fish in Court.” Daily Delta [New Orleans, Louisiana] 3 November 1855; p. 4. with text from “A Woman in Man’s Apparel.” Indiana Weekly Register [Indiana, Pennsylvania] 22 January 1856; p. 1.

A Queer Fish in Court.—The First Incident of the Season.—The season may be said to have fairly opened, for we have at length had a scene worthy of the palmiest days of our winter campaign, and one that has caused the greatest excitement in the community—a real life romance. In passing along St. Charles street yesterday about 212 o’clock, officer Dan Busby, who is always wide awake, caught one of the queerest fish that was ever seen out of water—nothing more or less than woman in man’s apparel. The peculiarity of her shape first attracted the notice of the officer as she was standing at the corner of St. Charles and Pydras streets, leaning against the Crystal Palace coffeehouse, and he at once arrested her. At first she denied the soft impeachment, but finally admitted she had been born a woman, though circumstances had made her a man. Woman-like, she let the officer into her confidence without more ado, and told him that she belonged to a very rich family in New York, and was a niece of a gentleman of this city. About five years since she fell in love with a man named Smith, and under promise of marriage accompanied him to Boston. She loved not wisely, but too well, as the sequel proved; for after seducing her in Boston, Smith deserted her—and being discarded by her relations, the only alternative left her was to doff her woman’s gear and don the male attire, which she accordingly did, and took to the sea to gain a livelihood. Shipping on board a merchant vessel, she was at once installed as cabin boy, and made three voyages to Liverpool and back—during one of the voyages the ship was overhauled by pirates, but the gallant crew succeeded in beating them off, and during the recontre, our heroine was foremost in the fight, receiving a slight wound in the cheek, for which she was complimented by the Captain. This was the last voyage she made. On her return, she left the ship and took to bar-keeping, at which business she thrived for a while in New York, but getting tired of the dull monotony attending the retailing of liquors, through the asstistance of some of her acquaintances she obtai[ned the ]post of book-keeer in a mercantile house in New York, which she retained for sometime, but preferring [a more active life to th]e sedentary life this position im[posed her, [sic]] she again took to the sea, and after [making one mor]e voyage to Europe as a sailor before [the mast, she] found herself a few weeks since in one [of our Northe]rn seaports. Hearing by accident that [Smith, her s]educer, was in Mobile, thither she direct[ed her steps]. On reaching Montgomery her mone[y gave out, a]nd she was forced to walk 125 miles. The [poor girl’]s feet still give evidence of the hardships [she enco]untered and endured during this dreary [march. Arriving] in Mobile she was mysteriously [instructed to come] to this city and stop at the Alab[ama Exchange,] where, she was informed Smith, who [is a] daguerreotypist, would join her in a [few days. Wh]ile wandering forth yesterday in search [of someth]ing to eat, she was arrested by officer Busby. [Thus] ended the recital of her eventful history. Dan [B]usby took her before Recorder Bright, who, after hearing her story, told her she had incurred a fine of twenty-five dollars by appearing in male attire, and admonished her to don her proper apparel as soon as possible. She, however, represented to the Recorder that this was the only clothing she had, and that as she had been so long accustomed to wearing the breeches it would be as easy for the leopard to change its spots or an Ethiopian his skin, as for her to cast off the pantaloons, and being in a good humor, the Recorder discharged her.

After leaving court in company with officer Busby, she remarked that she would like a clean shirt, and Dan, who is very kind hearted and always obliging, at once conducted her to his room, and gave her a complete outfit in clean clothes. Last evening she was walking around town in company with Dan and enjoying the sights, occasionally stopping to take a brandy punch, or a cigar, and cutting a magnificent swell.

She is rather pretty, but her hands are a little rough, owing to the toil and hardship she has endured, and her hair is cut short like a boy’s.

The above story is no doubt entitled to full credit, but we would suggest that it would be well enough for our readers not to believe too much of it, as the police shrewdly suspect that the romantic man-woman is an imposter, and no better than she should be. In fact, old Dan Busby concurs in this opinion.

“City Items: More Smiths in Trouble.” New Orleans Crescent [New Orleans, Louisiana] 10 November 1855; p. 3.

A suspicious looking covey, who gave his name as Charles Smith, was pulled on Thursday night by the First District police. He was a stranger in town, having just arrived, as he said, from Boston, and might have got along very well, but for a peculiar look and manner he had, which caused his arrest, and but for a quantity of counterfeit money which was afterwards found in his pockets. Yesterday he put on innocent airs, and asked an extension of time till to-day, which the Recorder was gracious enough to grant, sending him to prison meanwhile. It is suspected he belongs to the select circle of adventurers who acknowledge Julia Ann Ross, alias Anna Smith, alias Charlotte Smith, alias Charley Smith, alias Harry Lindon, (now in the work-house,) as their particular leader and queen.

On Thursday night a coarse looking frailty who gave her name as Elizabeth, was arrested by the Third District police for being drunk and in men’s clothes. As she refused to give her sirname, [sic] she was written down a Smith on suspicion.

“A Female in Pantaloons.” New-York Tribune [New York, New York] 13 March 1856; p. 7.

Ann Lindon, alias Charles Lindon, was yesterday arrested by Policeman O’Keefe of the Chief’s Office, for parading the streets in male attire, and for other discrepancies. It appears that she was found on the corner of Warren street and College place, handsomely dressed, and making quite a display, and the officer felt it his duty to “bring her in.” She has been in the habit of visiting the Broadway saloons, associating with Aldermen, Policemen, Constables, and other distinguished characters; and has occasionally, as Officer O’Keefe has been informed, passed herself off as a policeman, and even as his business partner. Of late she has indulged too freely in gin-slings and other fashionable drinks, and occasionally, while under the influence of these beverages, has been kicked into the street by rum-hole proprietors. Though but nineteen years of age, she has been a prostitute for a long time, and three or four years ago was the “belle” of a notorious den in Duane street. She was taken before a magistrate, who sent her to the Penitentiary, as a vagrant, for two months.

“Police Intelligence: An Unfeminine Freak—A Girl in Man’s Clothes.” New York Times [New York, New York] 14 March 1856; p. 2.

The girl “Charley” was arrested on Wednesday, and brought before Justice Wood, at the Essex Market Police Court, charged with being a “vagrant.” Charley is a “gallus” character, and while in Court was the observed of all observers. He—we mean she—heard the complaint preferred with apparent indifference, and replied to it by a simple plea of not guilty, and was then sentenced to two months imprisonment on Blackwell’s Island.

Charley chews tobacco with ease, and enjoys a mild Havanna. Her teeth, though, are good and white, and appear to be an object of great care. Her face is full, plump, and smooth, and her hair, short and black, is neatly arranged. Charley’s tile is a la mode, shines like a mirror, and is usually worn ajaunt, as becomes a gay young man about town. Her coat and br—pants are new, neat and well fitting. Her boots most fascinating, and her shirt-collar and bosom perfectly irresistible. Charley is about five feet three inches in height, rather slim, and when “fixed up,” is what most tender young ladies would call a “perfect love of a fellow.” Charley has broken some little hearts in his—we mean her—day, without intending any such calamity; but, generally, by a proper method, succeeded in getting rid of the lovers. There was one exception—a confiding creature—who for some time would not believe her story as to how things stood. It was very hard to convince her. But when the true state of affairs was made apparent she was inconsolable, and refused all offers of comfort from another source. Charley says she retired to a convent; but Charley is a wag.

She—he was born in New-Orleans, and is now 19 years of age. When her fifteenth birthday rolled round she doffed her feminine and donned masculine attire. The change suited so well that she has never seen fit to change it since. She first offered her services as a mess-boy on board of a Mississippi steamboat, and was on the up trip promoted to cabin-boy. She was for a time employed in the latter capacity on board the ill-fated Jewess. She worked in New-Orleans for about two years, and made one or two voyages as a passenger from that city to this. About a year ago she was engaged as bar-tender in the “Jenny Lind” Saloon, in Canal-street. Leaving here, Charley went back to New-Orleans, and about two months ago returned again to this City, and has since been out of employment.

Charley says that she has maintained herself “like a man,” without doing anything wrong, and feels an evident pride at the success with which she has carried out her masculine disguise.

“Don’t you think I’m smart,” said she in our Reporter, “never to be found out till now? Of course you do. I’m not a bad looking fellow, am I?”

“But why do you dress in male attire?”

“Well, because I can get along better. Can get more wages. A poor girl, (here Charley’s voice showed more feminine, and her big eyes grew bigger and milder,) has no chance. I acted wrong once, I don’t deny it; but, I didn’t like to, and it was to prevent the necessity of continuing to act bad that I put on boy’s clothes. I am not a vagrant, never have been, and never will be so long as I have hands to work. See there; my hands are hard—harder and bigger than yours; that looks like work. Yes, my hands are big, and homely too. They were little once, when I was living at home with my mother. But then there is no use crying about it, is there? I have roughed it so long, and I may as well be rough. All I want is that folks will let me alone. I can get along.”

“But you have had no visible means of gaining a livelihood, for some time.”

“I know I have been out of work, but I have paid my way, and when a man pays his way he ain’t a vagrant. I have been stopping, since I came, at the Richmond House, in Chambers-street—pay $2 50 a-week for my room, and eat at Green’s. I have some money that I saved yet, and of course I am not a vagrant. I don’t know why Joe Keefe arrested me for a vagrant.”

“How did Joe find out out?”

“Frank Hope told me out, and told Joe where I was. I don’t think either of them acted very smart. I don’t want to go on the Island, and I don’t think they can send me, either.”

“But you can be punished for dressing in male attire—there is a law against that.”

“Well, now, I think it’s rather hard that a person can’t dress as he sees fit, so long as he’s decent. Why don’t they arrest the Bloomers? Isn’t my dress a better one than the Bloomer, and more becoming?”

“That may be so, but the law”—

“Oh! well, my lawyer tells me that he thinks that law is unconstitutional.”

“Even if you be dismissed, now that you are known, you cannot remain in the City.”

“I don’t intend to. I have a sister in California. Here’s a letter from her. She wants me to go to her, and I will go.”

“Will you then dress in woman’s clothes?”

“Yes, I suppose so, but it will come hard to me. I wouldn’t know how to walk. It comes so natural to me to be a man. Why, when Emma Snodgrass was in Boston, I was with her. They took her up for dressing in boy’s clothes, and let me go, because they thought I was a man.”

Charley rolled her quid in her mouth, during the above conversation, and made frequent use of the spittoon. She learned to chew on the Mississippi, she said, the better to keep her disguise, and rather liked it now. When parting, she offered our Reporter a paper of Mrs. Miller’s fine cut, and he reciprocated by presenting her with a fine “osculapio,” which, when he left, she was enjoying on a bench placed for her accommodation in front of her cell.

Charley’s counsel applied yesterday for her discharge on a writ of habeas corpus. The Recorder before whom the mat[t]er was brought pstponed it till to-day.

“Miss Lyndon alias ‘Charley,’ at the Court of Sessions.” New York Daily Herald [New York, New York] 15 March 1856; p. 4.

Miss Lyndon alias “Charley,” at the Court of Sessions.
COURT OF GENERAL SESSIONS.
Before Recorder Smith.

After the calendar of burglary and larceny cases had been disposed of at the Court of Sessions yesterday, Mr. Spencer appeared with a writ of habeas corpus, and asked for the discharge of Miss Lyndon, alias “Charley,” who had been committed to the Tombs on an affidavit of officer O’Keefe, charging that the aforesaid Charley was a vagrant. The crowd about the court room being already large and constantly increasing, the Recorder said he would adjourn the court and hear this case at his private office in Chambers street. Thither accordingly his Honor repaired, accompanied by Charley and her counsel, some two or three reporters and a numerous crowd, who were not invited, but who nevertheless got there first, and continued to besiege the office unintermittingly during the trial. A sufficient number having been admitted to see that no violence was done to the law or to Miss Lyndon, the Recorder took his seat, ordered the doors to be closed, and stated to Mr. Spencer that he was now ready to hear the case. Mr. Spencer commenced by saying that he would not have pressed this matter so hard upon the Court had he not been satisfied that a great injustice had been done to his client, Miss Lyndon, by this commitment. He should ask for her discharge on the ground that the affidavit on which she had been committed did not constitute a case of vagrancy. No facts were stated tending in the least to show that she was a vagrant. The affidavit only states that this woman was standing on the corner of Warren street and Broadway when arrested, and that she had for some time been in the habit of dressing in male [a]ttire and passing herself off for a boy. Now, with regard to the first part of the affidavit, he supposed she had a right to stand on the corner of Warren street and Broadway, or on the corner of any other street. There was no pretence that she was misbehaving herself in any manner, but only standing on the corner of Warren street and Broadway, and that, too, in the daytime. With regard to the latter part of the affidavit, he had not been able to find any statute forbidding women to dress in male attire, and certainly as a matter of taste, it was far more becoming than the hybrid Bloomer costume. Besides there was nothing in the affidavit to show—and there was no proof of the fact—that Charley was not what she pretended to be—a boy.

Recorder—That is just the point that struck me.

Mr. Spencer—Yes, your Honor, it was reserved for the eagle eye of officer O’Keefe to discover that she was a girl. I don’t know what means that officer has of detecting the sex of a person at a glance, but I certainly have no proof that this woman is not of the masculine gender, and I shall not suffer my zeal in the pursuit of knowledge to push me to a closer investigation of the subject. The counsel proceeded to argue the different points at length, when he was interrupted by the Recorder, who said that the only question before him was, whether the affidavit on which this person was committed is sufficient to constitute a case of vagrancy. He was clearly of opinion that it was not; that it was not sufficient to authorize a committment, and he should therefore discharge the prisoner. “Charley,” who sat opposite the Recorder’s desk during the discussion, and who seemed to enjoy very much the salient points of her counsel’s speech, bestowed an approving smile upon the Recorder for his prompt decision, and answered the few questions he put to her with equal promptness:—

Recorder—Do you intend going out of the city?

Charley—I do. I sent word to my sister in California that I would come out there in May.

Recorder—Have you ever been in prison?

Charley—No, sir, not in prison.

Her counsel explained that she had been arrested once before on the charge of wearing boy’s clothes, but through the kind offices of Gov. Draper had been discharged.

Recorder—Well, you had better go out of the city as soon as you can, for you will be annoyed and subjected to a great deal of trouble if you remain here. My advice to you is to get away as soon as possible.

Charley—That I intend to do.

“Charley” is a fine looking boy, 19 years old, stout built, black hair, gray eyes, fair complexion and classic features. She says she was born in New Orleans, and, at the age of 15 adopted male attire, which she has worn ever since. She has been a bar tender, a barber, a waiter, a[ ]cabin boy, and almost everything else except an abandoned girl, which she declares she never was, and never will be. She looks and acts the part of a man remarkably well, and to one less skilled than officer O’Keefe, it would appear impossible that she could be anything but a man.

“Discharge of Anna Linden, the Boy-Girl.” New York Tribune [New York, New York] 15 March 1856; pp. 6-7.

Three o’clock yesterday afternoon was the time fixed by Recorder Smith to hear the application in behalf of Anna Linden for her discharge from the commitment of the Police Magistrate as a vagrant, on a writ of habeas corpus issued by the Court on Thursday. The hearing was to be at the Recorder’s private office in Chambers street; and though the fact had been kept still purposely, a large crowd assembled about the door in hopes to obtain admittance. About twenty persons only were present in the room.

The girl was present, still dressed in her male attire, which she has continued to wear since her arrest.

Mr. Charles F. Spencer, counsel for the girl, said:

May it please the court, I should not have pressed this matter upon your attention in the manner which I have had I not been satisfied that injustice had been done to Miss Linden, and were it not for the fact that a summary conviction of this kind cannot be reviewed in any other way. And I think, if I am permitted to cite the authority of the Supreme Court, I can satisfy the court that the affidavits upon which this commitment is found, does not establish a case of vagrancy. I advance the legal proposition that that record must contain certain facts and circumstances tending to show vagrancy, and if such is not shown the magistrate has no jurisdiction to act in the premises. And I contend that to swear a person is a prostitute and has no visible means of support, is not sufficient in a case of this kind. I refer your honor to the decision of Judge Morris, given on the 31st of March, 1855, in the case of Matilda Wade. In the case of Wade the officer swore that defendant was a common prostitute. The Judge in that case ruled that the only evidence going to show she was a prostitute was that she was out at 9 o’clock at night alone in the streets, and that this was insufficient to make out the case.

The Court—Upon that point you need not elaborate further.

Counsel—Then, if your honor pleases, this affidavit says that this woman was on the corner of a street, not misbehaving herself—not intoxicated or interfering with any body, or conducting herself in any manner unbecoming a peaceable and orderly citizen—but that she was dressed in male attire, and that she has been for some time in the habit of dressing in male attire. I contend, if the Court pleases, that this fact is not sufficient to make out this case. I have looked through the revised statutes for a law to meet this case in vain, and others too have looked for me with the same result; and I have come to the conclusion that we have no law against the act. Gentlemen of high attainments and reputation at the bar have expressed the same opinion; and if it be an offense at all, I suppose it predicated upon the idea that it is in its effects injurious to the public morals—that it is an outrage upon public decency. Now I respectfully submit that under the institutions in which we live, if a party, male or female, obeys the laws relative to property, and personally deports him or herself in a peaceable and orderly manner, that the mere fact of their dressing differently from others, provided they are decently dressed, does not make them guilty of an offense. Your Honor, in a very elaborate decision, has given forth the idea that sumptuary laws are not in consonance with our institutions—that a Legislature has no right to prescribe what a person may eat and drink. If this be true, it follows from the same reasoning that it has no right to prescribe what a person shall wear; and if they can say that a woman shall not wear a coat, they can say that she shall not wear a petticoat. A woman is allowed to dress in a Bloomer bostume, but in it she does not appear half so tasteful as Charley here. [Charley was here observed to blush.]

The Court—The Bloomer costume preserves the distinction between the sexes. This does not.

Counsel—There is no pretense that by any peculiarity in the deportment of this person the public peace was engendered. She has not gone into the streets with ringlets on—she has preserved throughout the appearance, manners and employment of a male. And if I chose to go further I might urge that there is nothing in the affidavit going to show that the defendant is anything else than what she or he appears to be, and the prima facie evidence is that she is of the masculine gender. And further, when the officer arrested her, instead of going to the Mayor’s office or the Tombs, either of which were near at hand, he dragged her to Essex Market, to hurry her off to the island as quickly as possible.

The Court—The only question in this matter, is whether the affidavits were sufficient. I think that they are clearly not sufficient to establish the charge of vagrancy.

The proprietor of the hotel where the defendant resides stated that she occupied a room containing a single bed, slept alone, paid for the room regularly in advance, and conducted herself in a peaceable, orderly manner.

The Court—(To prisoner)—Do you intend going out of the State?

Prisoner—I do; on the 20th of May next I intend to go to California, where I have a married sister residing.

The Court—Have you ever been in prison before?

Mr. Spencer—She was arrested once before, your Honor, for this same offense. Some of the Board of Governors took an interest in her case and procured her discharge.

The Court—Anna, you had better get out of the city as soon as you can; as long as you remain you will be liable to be interfered with.

The crowd of persons had remained around the office during the pendency of the preceedings, and when she left the place in company with an officer and the proprietor of the hotel, she was followed by over a hundred men and boys. They succeeded in reaching the hotel, however, unmolested.

HISTORY OF ANNA LINDEN.

One of our reporters paid a visit yesterday to Anna Linden at the Tombs, and obtained from her a brief history of her life.

He found her still attired in her male apparel. She wore fancy cassimere pants, calf-skin shoes, black cloth vest and frock coat, a striped shirt with a Byron collar, black cravat and black silk hat; she is five feet four inches in h[e]ight, fair complexion, light blue eyes, nose rather aquiline and light hair. Her face is on the whole quite pleasing. Her manners, however, possess no feminine characteristics. She has so long been accustomed to associate with males and those who assemble about bar-rooms that she has now the manners and appearance of a forward boy of about sixteen years of age.

The following is a statement of her history as given substantially by herself:

“I was born in April, 1837, in New-Orleans, where I resided until I was between three and four years of age, with my mother, my father having died when I was about two months old. My mother, with my sister, brother and myself, then removed to a village in Maine, where I resided until the death of my mother, which occurred when I was just past fourteen. After this event I went to Boston to reside with my sister, who was married. I was there but two months when I was married myself to an actor, whose name I prefer not to give. But the match proved unpleasant, as my husband failed to support me, aside from which he ill-treated me, and by the advice of my sister I left him. Soon after this my sister received a letter from her husband in California, desiring her to join him there. She accordingly left, and I was then—a girl past fifteen years old—dependent on my own exertions. I left Boston for New-York to seek employment. I succeeded in getting a situation in a confectionery store in Broadway, but three weeks after, I was seized w[i]th the brain fever, which confined me to my bed for two months. Having no means, I was compelled to pawn all of my clothing to pay my board and doctors’ bills, so that when I had recovered I was without a dress, and with but very little under clothing. At that time, a gentleman with whom I had been acquainted in Boston heard that I was sick, and called to see me. I told him how I was situated, but he [p. 7] said he had no money to assist me. I said that the best he could do was to let me have a suit of his clothes, which I thought I would accept, as they would be more appropriate, I having lost all of my hair by sickness. To remedy this deficiency, he purchased me a cheap wig in Pearl-street. That evening we went out together, and learning that a saloon on Broadway was in want of a boy to attend bar, I applied for the situation, and was accepted. The proprietors did not suspect my sex until I had been there some time; and when accused of it, I confessed the fact, and told them the circumstances—that I was desirous of getting an honest living, and I had done the best I could. They kept the matter a secret, and I remained there five months. At this time my husband found me out and persuaded me to live with him again. We secured an engagement at the Providence Museum—I still continuing to wear the male attire, as I liked it best. I played both male and female comedy parts. The persons in the theater supposed I was a younger brother of my husband. After remai[ni]ng a few weeks in Providence, we went to the Albany Museum, where my husband and myself again separated after four weeks—he continuing to ill treat me. I remained there till the close of the season, playing nearly every afternoon and evening. I then returned to New-York, and secured a place in a bar-room in Canal street. I remained there all Winter, and then left for New-Orleans in the steamship Jewess, where I had obtained a situation as mess boy. I was subsequently promoted to the cabin as cabin-boy, in which situation I remained for three trips, and I left her the trip previous to her last, when she was lost. I then resumed my place in Canal street for a short time, and continued working as a bar-keeper until September last, when I went to Savannah, Georgia, and thence traveled through the States to New-Orleans. I obtained employment there. About six weeks after, I received, from my sister in California, a letter which had been forwarded to me from New-York, and which contained an order for a passage for Ann Linden in the second cabin to California by the Aspinwall route. But I had no female apparel to wear, and not money enough to get it after paying my fare from New-Orleans to New-York. Under these circumstances I concluded to come to New-York and try to obtain employment to support me, and to send the order back to San Francisco to get it changed to a man’s name so that I could come out. I returned to New-York and sent the order to California the fifth day of this month. So far I have not been able to get employment. I have had just money enough to pay my board in a respectable but cheap hotel. I expect to receive the draft from California by the first week in May, when I shall leave in the first steamer. On Wednesday last, while sitting in the bar-room of the hotel reading a newspaper, Mr. Keefe, one of the Chief’s aids, whom I did not know, came in and arrested me without any warrant, and took me before Justice Brennan at Essex Market, and swore that I was a vagrant and a prostitute. This is false. I put on male attire from necessity, but as I found afterward that it gave me advantages in obtaining an honest liv[e]lihood by securing a better remuneration, I concluded to keep it on as a matter of choice, and have since worn it entirely. I have worked constantly, except at such times as I have been out of employment, and have got a living almost unaided. My hands now are as hard as any boy’s who works, which I think is a sufficient guarantee that I get my living honestly. As soon as I receive my order from California I shall leave, and when I arrive there shall put on female clothing and try to become a little more feminine in my manners. In conclusion, I will say that in putting on male attire I have nothing to regret. It has saved me from insult, and has secured me a compensation to enable me to live better than I could have done had I to work as poor girls do for from two to four dollars a week, and have to pay their board out of that; and I think that the public will agree with me in saying that I took the best course under the circumstances.”

“A Female in Man’s Attire.” New York Daily Herald [New York, New York] 23 April 1856; p. 1.

Annie Lindon, a young woman, of preposessing appearance, was arrested on Monday night, by the Fourth ward police, for drunkenness and dressing herself in male attire. Annie was liberated from the penitentiary a short time ago, on a writ of habeas corpus, where she had been sentenced to six months imprisonment as a vagrant. The prisoner seems devotedly attached to male attire, for she still persists in wearing pants and a frock coat, instead of the attire that is more fitted for females, i. e., petticoats. The prisoner said that she had been wearing men’s clothes for four years, and had served in the capacity of barber and bartender for many years, much to the satisfaction of her employers. It was her intention, she said, to sail for California on the 25th proximo, but she will probably be pretty well acquainted with the interior of Blackwell’s ere that period arrives.

“Departure of Charley Linden the ‘Boy Girl’ for California.” New-York Tribune [New York, New York] 6 May 1856; p. 7.

Annie Linden alias Charley, known as the “boy girl,” left yesterday in the steamer Illinois for California. A few days since she received from her sister’s husband, who is in excellent circumstances in San Francisco, the means to pay her fare in the cabin to California. Her friends there were fully apprized of her eccentric course, and knowing that if she were to don the garments of her sex, her unwomanly manner would be apt to excite attention, they advised Charley, much to her satisfaction, to keep on her male attire until she reached California. Her friends there never having seen her as “Charley,” and fearing that they would not be able to identify her when they came on board the steamer at San Francisco, they sent in the letter a ribbon with directions to tie it in the button-hole of her coat, and to remain on the vessel and await their coming. Gentlemen of her acquaintance contributed to buy her a new suit of clothes, and others made up a good sum of money, which they presented to her on her departure. A large number of acquaintances were at the wharf to see her off; many wishes were expressed for her success and happiness in the future. She states it to be her intention to doff her present apparel when she reaches San Francisco, and to become once more a woman; and we are of the opinion, judging from the rough, boyish, swaggering manners which are now her characteristics, that she will find the transition not an easy task whatever may be thought of the expediency or prudence of her course in thus unsexing herself. Everybody who knows her history, and has had opportunities to observe her during the four years in which she has assumed the boy, agrees that she has earned an honorable living, having been most of the time employed in the various capacities of a barkeeper, a barber, or an assistant to a daguerreotypist; while she states, herself, that she was prompted to do as she has done to avoid the alternative of doing worse, or being unemployed at the unremunerative prices which women are compelled to accept.

“Police Matters: Before Recorder Fabre.” Daily Picayune [New Orleans, Louisiana] 28 August 1856; p. 2.

Charley Smith, the famous female in male apparel, was fined $10 for sailing under false colors. Another Charley Smith, (masculine,) was held to answer for a breach of the peace.

“Arrival Extraordinary.” Memphis Daily Eagle and Enquirer [Memphis, Tennessee] 26 July 1856; p. 3.

No little commotion existed around the Worsham House yesterday, in consequence of the arrest of quite a good looking female dressed in male attire, who arrived here and put at this house, and endeavored to pass herself off upon the inmates as a man. The New Orleans papers gave an account, six or eight weeks ago, of an arrest similar to this, but their [sic] being nothing proven against the woman, she was discharged. This may turn out to be the same individual; if so, we may have something rich.

A female apparently 22 or 23. Daily Nashville Patriot [Nashville, Tennessee] 30 July 1856; p. 4.

A female apparently 22 or 23 years of age, was recently arrested in Memphis for wearing men’s apparel. She represents that she has dressed in this manner for about six years, during the most of which time, she has been employed as cabin boy, bar keeper and steward, but no consideration will induce her to disclose anything further. The affair has created considerable excitement.