Another BigCloset TopShelf story.

SISTER SUFFRAGETTES
by Jezzi Belle Stewart
 ©2006, Turn Right Productions

INTRODUCTION

This, the April 29/30, 1903 entry in the diary of Miss Emily Wentworth, is a sequel to my dear sister Gwen Lavyril's SUFFERING SUFFRAGETTES, the April 28th entry. It is written and posted with her permission. I urge readers who have not done so to read Gwen's very well written and entertaining entry first, but if you want to jump right in to mine, I offer the summary below:

In Gwen's April 28 entry, Emily relates how she and her mother, both suffragettes, punish her brother Henry for his misogynist attitude toward their cause and towards women in general, and his actions based on those attitudes, by putting him into a ridiculous feminine outfit that only the silly, flighty type of woman he believes all women to be would wear and tricking "Henrietta" into behaving as such while marching in Seneca Falls' suffragette parade. Henry's girlfriend Patricia becomes involved in his torment, and two of Henry's like minded friends are punished by their mother in like manner, becoming "Charlene" and "Danielle." Gwen ends the April 28 entry with Emily gloating that Henrietta, Charlene, and Danielle are going to have to participate in the cleanup from a tea held at the Wentworth home.

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

Gwen and I share a rather nicely warped sense of humor, and in many respects our views on femininity and feminization are similar. However, she likes her reluctant hero(ines) to remain reluctant, while I like to see them converted to the wonders of true femininity, becoming strong, independent women. This difference is what prompted me to ask Gwen's permission to write a sequel. Love ya, Gwennie!

THE STORY:

Dear Diary,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

( Please save comments for after SISTER SUFFRAGETTES, Part 2 of 2 )