The Intersexes: A History of Similisexualism as a Problem in Social Life/Chapter VIII
The Uranian and the Uraniad in the Military and Naval Careers; in the Athletic Professions: and in Royal, Political and Aristocratic Social Life: Types and Biographies.
The Military Ho-
mosexual: in No
is the Uranian
How Far a Result
Distinguished navigators and sea-warriors, daring pirates, storm-defying Wikings, bronzed captains in the merchant-services of the world, have been also uranian lovers. Some names are historic. We find one such Dionian-Uranian in Yasco da Gama. Another, according to accusation, was Cornelis van Tromp, the son of Martin van Tromp. Such too was Magellan (Fernâo de Magalhaes, one of whose descendants not long dead, the Brazilian diplomat and litterateur Domingo Magalhaes (1811-1882) was professedly Uranian, and the authour of the sometime famous "Urania" poem (Vienna, 1862). One of the most eminent of English naval commanders of the century just closed was prominent in an homosexual scandal, suppressed vigorously on account of the high personages involved, but disconcertingly general at its date.
That the British navy long ago was remarked for homosexual cultures, a classic English novel hints. A curious sea-incident occurs in Smollet's Roderick Random", where the hero of the novel is stationed on a ship commanded, for a time, by an effeminate uranistic officer, living in open sexual intimacy with his doctor. Also is to be cited the other passage in the same story, where a homosexual nobleman, enamoured of the young surgeon, tries to broaden Random's views as to intercourse between males, by the praise and perusal of Petronius. (See chapters XXXIV and LI, of the novel).
Letter from a
"I have been stationed, as you know, on two or three ships, and I think they have been thoroughly representative of the best sort of British seamen. On the D—, homosexuality was rife, and one could see with his own eyes how it was going on, even between officers, i have been told that in some services (the Austrian and French, for instance), nobody ever remarks about it, taking such a thing as a natural proceeding. That may be so or not; but in any case nobody was "shocked" on board either the A— or the B—. There were half a dozen "ties' that we knew about. To my knowledge, sodomy is a regular thing on ships that go on long cruises. In the war-ships, I should say that the sailor oftenit … In the instances that I have described, the intimacy was spoken of—slyly. The friendships between men, in all grades of service at sea, tend to be much closer, more sentimental than when ashore, Everything makes for confidentiality, one is shut away from the world, and so much in pairs with his friends, during watches and so on … Of course when the forecastle men come ashore they are keen after the girls, but sometimes that interest quite disappears, I am told … That it does in the case of many sea-friendships between homosexual officers, I know …".
Something of the influence elemental to sailor-homosexuality is admirably expressed in the novels of "Pierre Loti", already referred to; the authour being a captain in the French marine. "My Brother Yves", for instance, is manifestly uranistic, the passional affection for young Yves on the part of the narrator going beyond mere friendship; a strong note of sexual relationship at times sounded in the tale.
rouillent and Ura-
The Direct and
ics in Naval and
les of Soldier-Ur-
and Roman War-
The Fighting Or-
ders; the Palad-
ins and Arthur-
Suggestions of more than merely spiritual bonds between the famous Paladin confraternity can be discerned in the pages of its chroniclers. The same observation applies to some of the passionate intimacies between the Arthurian Knights of the Round Table. Indeed, at this period of chivalry, love for women was continually a mere idealism, expecting and receiving no sexual return. Often it could not, by any stretch of honour, receive such return. Knightly woman-worship was much a matter of lute and lay, a spiritual pose. Malory sounds notes of passion that vaguely make similisexual melody. Later, incontestable representatives of soldier-uranians thicken. It may startle many a reader to know that Gonsalvo de Cordova, General Tilly, Prince Eugène of Savoy, certain princes of Orange, Duke Charles of Burgundy (1433-1477) that great soldier-prince Henri de Condé, the Duc de Vendome, Pietro Duke of Parma, the youthful and brave Conradin of Hohenstaufen and his kinsman Friedrich of Baden, the "blameless" paragon of chivalry, Sir Philip Sidney, Charles XII of Sweden, Gustavus III of Sweden, Peter the Great of Russia, Paul I of Russia, Amadeus of Savoy (who became Pope Felix-Amadeus VIII)—not to mention a wide circle of typical Italian and Spanish "fighting princes" such as Cesare Borgia and great war-making Umbrian and Tuscan and Lombardian chieftains, indubitably were homosexual. The luckless warrior of the Pfalz, Richard Puller von Hohenburg ended his career in a trial and at the stake, as a confessed sodomite, along with his last young paramour, Anton Schärer. The fine soldier Filippo Maria Anglo Visconti, duke of Milan, conspicuous in the early part of the Fifteenth Century was uranistic; one of his special favourites being Scaramuzza, who had been a good-looking young palace-cook.
Alexander I of Russia was. unequivocally homosexual. Of great physical beauty, adored by the women, he was in youth, and he remained, as glacial to love of their sex as Frederick the Great, or more so. The many similisexual episodes in Alexander's life, in campaign or court, justified the pointed remark of Napoleon that the statuesque Emperor of Russia was "the slyest and handsomest of all the Greeks". The reader can consult such memoirs as the Potocka series for items. Alexander's mysticism of temperament, as he grew older, is not inconsistent with his similisexualism.
Was Napoleon himself ever tinged with uranianism?—he, that continual amateur of women, that brutally sexual Dionian, when in mature soldierly individuality! One can hardly entertain such a suspicion at first thought. Or is one again confronted with the eternal, inconsistent uranistic throb of dionistic natures? It has been affirmed that Napoleon in his humbler soldier-days, when Lieutenant (or Captain) Buonaparte, had a homosexual intimacy with a young officer of his regiment. Probably the truth or falsity of this vague charge will never be determined. But certainly Napoleon had no strong moral theories against the homosexual instinct. He was a Latin, as well as a man of wide philosophic horizons. His Napoleonic Code avoids carefully any punishment of sexual intercourse between men, except where violence, public decency, or debauchment of minors, are concerned. Probably Napoleon's attitude to the topic was similar to his mocking remark when told of the habits of bestiality (with a mare) on the part of a certain gallant officer of the army; "So? And what, pray, have I to do with his—love-affairs?"
The hero of Khartoum, General Gordon, a soldier-like type, if ever one was, and a devout almost superstitious, Christian, was Uranian. Incidents of this inner life of Gordon used to be narrated in his Chinese days and later. His bond with Lord Arthur Hamilton was of the truly hellenic colour. An Uranian-nature has long been attributed to another contemporary English soldier whose name is linked popularly with Egyptian campaigning; along with his exceptionally persistent "woman-hating".
Within a few weeks of the time when these pages are written, England, and Continental Europe were shocked by a notable loss to the British army, and by a melancholy social tragedy—the death in Paris of Major-General Sir Hector Macdonald, who died a suicide in consequence of uranistic intimacies, while commanding officer of the British forces stationed in Ceylon. Personal friends of Macdonald long had been aware of his homosexualism. In course of his long service, there had been relationships that were open secrets. But in Afghanistan, India, the Sudan and South Africa alike, Macdonald had fought with great distinction. Clandestinely pederastic, after being stationed in Ceylon, Roberts. Macdonald was urged to face the accusations; "they would be dismissed Certain unfortunate aspects impaired his courage, whatever might have been his best course. During the last days of March, 1903, in incognito, he took up his quarters in a Paris hotel. One morning he was found dead in his room, having shot himself. The episode excited much grief in Great Britain. Indeed, British hypocrisy in speaking or writing of homosexualism, on this occasion was considerably laid aside. The public and the press paid high tribute to the deceased soldier. Some of the English and Scotch journals spoke of him as the victim of unnecessary official scrutiny uinto personal affairs." A public monument to the dead warrior has been erected in Scotland. There was much more temperate allusion to the trait which had brought Macdonald to death than in any previous affair of the sort in England.incidents in connection with native youths that invited official investigation. The affair might nevertheless have escaped further consideration had not a member of the legislative council in Ceylon brought charges. The governor of Ceylon judiciously attempted to suppress them, but the effort was vain. Summoned to London to answer accusations against his private character at the War Office, Macdonald made a hurried and secret journey to England. He had interviews with a few friends, including Lord
A curious case of uranianism, coincidental with a soldier's profession and temperament, occured in Commandant J— R—, in charge of an important army-station in the western part of the United States. Commandant R— in no sense neglected his military responsibilities. But he had homosexual intimacies with younger or older soldiers, according to lively report. He also was fond of attiring himself like a woman, when in his officer's quarters, yet would have none of womankind round about him. A small literature of his eccentricities has appeared.
In Modern Mili-
tary Life "Love
The Tragic Side
Here, as in Civil
Often one meets with a newspaper-reference similar to this one, translated from a journal of the very week in which the authour is writing this chapter:
"No further light can be thrown as yet on the suicide of Lieutenant R— B— last Sunday. The personal and professional affairs of the deceased young man were in good order, and no family matters exist that explain his want of interest in life. The letter to his brother K— B—, in F—, in which Lieutenant B— spoke of himself as the victim of "an incurable nervous disease from which he had long suffered", is contradicted by the dead man's having been examined about four weeks ago for a life-insurance policy, with an excellent report. No one has heard him speak of any sort of nervous or other ill-health. The letter which Lieutenant B— left, addressed to his friend Captain O—, the latter declines to make known. Captain O— wishes it understood that there is no ground for the report that affairs with the other sex are complicated in Lieutenant B—'s death. Lieutenant B— was of most regular habits; did not frequent the society of the opposite sex except under ordinary social conditions. He had many warm friends. The deliberation of the suicide, makes the affair mysterious".
Or take the following:
"Captain F. N. of the O— Regiment,—now at G—, after a visit to the Franciscan Church last Sunday returned to his lodgings in—Strasse, and after sitting at his writing-desk, put a revolver to his breast and was found by his orderly, lying by the desk, dead, some hours, later … A letter to a fellow-officer declared his intention of making away with himself. The suicide was evidently quite clear-minded. Captain N— was a young man, of regular habits, and retiring in manner. He was often called the "woman-hater" in view of his avoidance of "gay" society in G—. His health was good; his family affairs and money-matters were entirely in order. There is, in short, no accounting for his act. The friend to whom the letter mentioned was delivered declines to give information as to its contents."
In a garrison-town in Italy, two or three winters ago, occurred the suicide of a high officer of the Italian Service; an incident which awakened regret and surprise in Italian army-circles, owing to the high character and distinction of the deceased. He had fine social qualities; there was a want of motive to explain his act. V— had been in his usual spirits, had mixed freely with his friends on the preceding days of the same week, and was just promoted. He blew out his brains in his room, one afternoon, leaving on the table a four-line letter saying—"The disease which afflicts me prevents my dragging out this life of mine any longer. Please notify my brother, with due caution." No "disease" existed. The fact that the dead man had been homosexual, and the victim of a melancholy long-concealed from human scrutiny, was afterwards known. He had given up existence in a fit of neurasthenic despair.
Before the close of the thirties, in the nineteenth century, occurred in Vienna, a chain of episodes in army-life, based almost wholly on uranistic facts. How much so was known to few persons outside of a trio directly involved. Among the Magyar Imperial Life-Guards in Vienna, was a certain young Count U—, a member of an excellent family as well as of an aristocratic circle. Count U— was of a physical beauty which made him the object of feminine admiration in half the drawingrooms of Vienna. Complaisant proposals were lavished on this Apollo of one of the most picturesque regiments in Europe. He was a Don Juan as to the women. Nevertheless, Count U— was a Dionian-Uranian. He maintained a sexual relation with a young brother-officer in Budapest, a famous swordsman and rider, of notable attractiveness. Between the two young men came a difference. The fidus Achates of Count U— was a declared woman-hater, entirely homosexual. But in course of time, Count H—, apparently reverting to the normal, fell in love with a young and beautiful girl. It became a question of his marriage. The Count offered his hand and name. Fraulein X— accepted him. Unhappily one obstacle to the marriage existed. The young lady was of Jewish stock, the daughter of a wealthy financier. At that time the local prejudice against such marriages, on the part of aristocratic Vienna, was more sharp than it is to-day. The engagement might however have been acceptable to the U— family, but for a direct intervention, made by the friend of Count U—. He had been willing to tolerate Count U—'s passing flames, but the idea of the marriage was unendurable. Whatever he could do to strengthen the opposition of the family of Count U— he did. But he maneuvered this so adroitly that Count U— had no idea of any such intrigue. The jealous soldier played his rôle with the finesse of an actor. He could not succeed in bringing the parents of Count U— to a definite refusal to receive the young lady into their intimacy, should the marriage occur, until about a week prior to its date. Some of the members of the U— family had declared their willingness to be present, but others had not. The night before the date set for the marriage, Count U— visited his parents, having every reason to suppose that displeasure as any obstruction was past. He found the situation changed. His father nor mother would neither be present at the ceremony, nor under any circumstances would receive the bride socially. A violent scene ensued. There was no mistaking the obstinacy of the family. Count U— went to his rooms, and shot himself dead. The young officer who had. been the real agency of the resolution of the U— family, was overwhelmed at a result which he had not foreseen. In remorse and grief he followed his friend to the grave, by putting a bullet through his own heart on the evening after the funeral of Count U—. He left a note to a well-known officer, in which he confessed the sexual history. The young lady, by the by, survived the tragedy, and presently married—into her own faith. The U— family, it is of interest to note, included more than one abnormal member. Another member, Countess U— was always believed to be an Uraniad, so masculine was her individuality, in spite of the fact that she married and had children. Her separation from her husband was supposed to refer to this element. She also, when in middle life, without any obvious reason, committed suicide suddenly in a foreign land where, as a sort of interesting amazon, she long had resided.
Uranianism in the
A sanguinary little drama, based on uranism in the ranks was played in a Galizian barracks one night, a few years ago. A young infantry soldier had during many months maintained homosexual intercourse with another recruit. The friend took a fancy to another soldier, and avoided his former comrade. The latter discovered the situation. A fierce quarrel ensued, Finally the deserted man threatened to kill the deserter and anybody else concerned. In the middle of the night came a shot, then a scene of terror. The soldier had crept stealthily out of bed, had taken his carbine, and had slipped over to where his "false" comrade lay. He fired at him in the dark. As the roomful of sleeping recruits was roused by the report, they leaped up, striking lights. The lad saw that he had missed his mark. He began firing right and left wildly—twice aimed at the rival soldier. In the flickering light he merely grazed him. The youth was secured by his half-naked comrades, and was shut up, out of his senses, till morning should come. During the few hours of that imprisonment he contrived nearly to make way with himself. He was tried for attempt at murder, but refused to explain his motives, till he was put under medical examination. Then he confessed the affair.
A Romancist of
A brief résumé of companion-in-arms. Andreas Walt, of humbler social station, but who is a sort of Antinous in his classic beauty. Unluckily Walt has not been at all attracted to von Selbitz—not even as a friend. The sense of jealousy has worked bitterly on von Selbitz. Precisely on the night before the battle of Jena, von Selbitz challenges Walt to a duel, in sheer nervous irritation. But the duel cannot be fought; duty to their country postpones any private quarrels in the army. Next day both young men are dangerously wounded. They are left on the field, near each other. Franz von Selbitz crawls over to the side of the man whom he loves more than his own life, and at the risk of his chances of surviving his own wounds, he binds up those of Walt. He is carried to an hospital, along with von Selbitz, each of them quite unconscious from exhaustion. Arrived at the hospital, Andreas is presently brought out of danger: but Franz is thought to be beyond hope, though he has been brought to a certain degree of improvement. He is perfectly rational, and has still the relics of former strength. Aware of his critical state, he begs that, no matter at what risk, he may be allowed to speak once with Andreas Walt. Bandaged and weak, Andreas consents. He makes his way to the bedside of von Selbitz. The following scene occurs:military stories by Sternberg is timely here, as being typical. In "Jena and Leipzig". Franz von Selbitz of aristocratic birth, loves passionately but in troublous secrecy, his
Andreas heard Franz's weak voice, and undecided what to do, whether to enter the room or to withdraw, he stood in the door.
"Andreas Walt?" called the sick man.
"It is I", replied Andreas, without coming nearer the couch. Not till the other had stretched out his hand to him did Andreas Walt sit down on the bed. Lying there, Franz pulled aside the paper screen which muffled the light; and the rays fell full on the face and figure of Walt. Franz fastened his gaze on Walt, and did not turn his eyes away even on meeting the still unfriendly, almost hostile, look of Walt.
"In what can I serve you, Herr von Selbitz?", asked Walt coldly.
"I am a dying man" replied Selbitz, in a low voice. Then he paused. Again Walt said nothing, and a long silence ensued. Then suddenly Franz seized the hand of Andreas Walt in his own; covered it with tears and kisses; and cried "Andreas! Can you forgive me?" "Oh, comrade!" answered Andreas, flushing a blood-red, and drawing away his hand in his surprise and embarrassment. But Franz, himself up, continued. "If to night is to be my last, Andreas, so much the more reason for you to know that—l love you". "You—you speak so in your fever", replied his late antagonist, bewildered.
"No, Andreas! By God and by His Eternal Grace, I tell you the truth! Be cold—be proud if so you must be, after I humiliate myself before you. Yes, Andreas only a glowing love, hidden from all the world, not understood by even myself—this has made me treat you as I did. Know now that in my bosom lives a quite other heart; as long ago you would have known—found out under other circumstances. I tormented you, I insulted you, only because I loved you! I could not endure it any longer—that you were so cold to me, made no more of me than of other comrades. Yes—I have felt as if I would kill you, rather than find you so cold to me!"
"I cannot understand—"
"Listen, Andreas! When I saw you for the first time—when you first came into my room, as I sat alone and dull-hearted on my bed that day, a ray of sunshine fell through the old torn curtain. It fell on your face, on your breast and shoulder; and something cried out in me, "That man belongs to you! He is your brother your friend! Without him you ought not to live, you cannot live!…" Only because I could not throw myself upon your neck and kiss you, did I treat you so ill then and afterward … Oh, if you could have known that though I have mocked you in the presence of others, I have crept in the night to the door of your room, only just to hear the sound of your breathing while you were sleeping!—my heart tortured with dreams that perhaps you might die suddenly! that so I might be left alone, in cruel misery, without you! What a folly mine has been!… Point out to me, Andreas, any other such heart as mine! And so at last in my mad torment, ever more wreched, did I cry out, "This must come to an end! either by his bullet to my heart, or by mine to his! When he or I are dying, then, then, I can tell him all! Death shall unite us, since Life cannot! And so now you know all: forgive me, if you can".
Franz had turned his face to the wall, the agony of his wound overcoming him. But Andreas Walt knelt down beside him, and said in a tone that showed how much he was moved at this strange confession, "Herr von Selbitz all this seems to me so very strange. I beg you to feel sure that I have never had the least idea of—what you tell me!"
"Oh, call me "Thou", not "You"! exclaimed Franz, "you can do that now—for am I not dying!"
"I will get the surgeon—"
"No, no! Stay thou with me! Be thou my physician! See, see, Andreas! I am quitting this mortal life, and never have l known what is its highest joy. I am twenty years old; and yet never have I come into touch with what men call love for woman! God has kept my heart open only for—friendship! Thou, thou, art mine all! my life—my love! Here, now, on the edge of my grave, I throw off the unnatural mask, for now I shall have dared to clasp thee with the arms of love—I can go Home satisfied."
Andreas felt something like a well-stream flowing to his breast from the heart of this dying comrade. All other emotions had fled; bending over Franz von Selbitz he exclaimed "My friend! My brother! For, so do I greet thee!"
"—In death and in life!" whispered Franz.
Von Selbitz fell back on his bed, and lay there still, in a swoon of exhaustion. Andreas summoned help, forgetting his own perrilous condition, living only for the friend who had given his very soul up to him, as so unexpected an offering …
That little attic-room, where Franz had been lying, must needs now shelter both these friends. The Angel of Death hovered over first one of the pair, then the other; he touched their young foreheads, but his cold finger was not laid upon their hearts. They grew well of their wounds slowly—slowly. But by the coming of the Spring, they could leave their sick-room … Their comrades greeted them gladly, once more of their old circle. Often, often did talk busy itself with the strange change—two men once such bitter enemies now such affectionate friends".
The remainder of the novel deals with the sacrifices of Franz von Selbitz as he finds that Andreas Walt, who is a Dionian-Uranian at most, loves a young girl and wishes to marry. The torments of wounded hopes, of jealousy, of separation, all are of course inevitable to this situation. Yet Franz, who is the superiour nature, realizes that respect for the more normal temperament of Andreas, and regard for his happiness, alike demand that the marriage must come. "I have suffered frightfully, Andreas", he writes … "I have battled with my heart, I have won. Go, love this woman, marry her! Sooner or later that would have to be. I have seen the girl, and though she does not seem to me worthy thee (for when could any woman be worthy of a man?)—still, she is not unsuited to thee, Andreas. So—farewell forever! I cannot live near thee, knowing that I now have only half thy heart. Nothing on earth is there more wretched than a half-heart! I want either all my heaven; or else all hell" … The separation however is maintained with difficulty. One meeting between the pair of friends is particularly moving. The military course of the story is resumed. The two men are ordered to Leipzig. In that great battle they are both severely wounded. Franz von Selbitz dies in the arms of Walt, just as he has long desired to do; while Walt survives Franz only during a few hours.
In Sternberg's other tale, "Die Beiden Schützen" ("The Two Shots") are again two protagonists, both young men; the brown-eyed Tony Wickye, a Neuchatellois, and Friedrich Forst, from far-away Pomerania. The deep affection between these two, and their solemn pledge that it shall never fail of anything in life and in death, are sketched in a succession of manly and graceful incidents, during their soldier-service. Once, when Tony overstays his furlough, his alert friend contrives to transfer the punishment to himself, and so willingly suffers arrest for Tony. Friedrich Forst is, in fact, ever the more unselfish nature of the pair—more perfectly uranistic, intersexual. A feminine pleasure in self-sacrifice marks his sentiment. Forst has, too, a portent that he is to die early. One night, while possessed by a sort of revery, when on watch-duty, he counts the grated bars of a cemeterygate near him, and finding them to be eighteen and a half, he feels strongly the conviction that he will not reach his nineteenth year. More than ever, in that sad fantasy, does his soul go out toward his beloved Tony Wickye. A few days later, Friedrich is mortally wounded—horribly—in a skirmish. Every second is torture. In his agony he implores Tony Wickye to take his musket, and to shoot him, then and there, simply to end such sufferings. He knows that he cannot be healed. He would fain die by the beloved hand of Wickye. After a direful moral and sentimental battle with himself, and refusals to his friend, the tragic vow of their friendship conquers Tony. He obeys; the shot from his hand puts Friedrich Forst, out of misery.
Such are some of von Sternberg's military stories in the intersexual key. Reference to those of other sort will occur elsewhere in this volume.
A Citation from
"My mind was forcibly diverted from Latin grammar by a passion which had a distinct effect on my whole life, finding vent fourteen years later in a book which marked the first stage of a journey that may end, perchance, with these pages. I refer to my passion for soldiers; or, to speak more accurately, for the bersaglieri who formed the only garrison of our city. If they had been infantry of the line, I am certain that my enthusiasm would have been less; since my devotion, though due in part to the warlike spirit of the time and my own ardent nature, was also partly due to the beauty of the uniform, the agility of the manœuvres and the personal prestige of these "Children of Alessandro La Marmora". Never I am sure did lad of my years entertain a more ardent passion; though many have been much more strongly inclined than I towards a military career. It was a real monomania, not to be cured by exhortation, reproof or punishment. On every holiday, and on other days too, both before and after school, I ran away from home at all hours in order to follow the cocks' plumes to the training held, to the rifle-practice, to the "athletics". Among my many likings, I made one friendship, which remains among the dearest recollections of my childhood. There was a trumpet-corporal—a native of Mortara if I am not mistaken—a young fellow of medium height, lithe and robust, a typical bersagliere. His features were strong and wore a serious expression, but he was full of kindness; his manners were simple and pleasant; his name was Martinotti. He took a fancy to me through having seen me plunging along to the sound of his trumpet, with my tongue lolling from my mouth. We scraped acquaintance on the training-field; then we began taking walks together during my leisure hours in the neighborhood of my home. He treated me like a man, which flattered my vanity and enhanced my affectionate gratitude. He spoke to me of his family, his career, his superior officers; told me all the garrison-gossip, giving me all particulars with greatest gravity, while I listened with the most devoted attention. At home, my one, theme of conversation was Corporal Martinotti, whom my brothers to tease me dubbed "the General", He wanted me to say "tu" when I spoke to him, but I never got up sufficient courage. To be seen on the street at his side was my pride, and when he took me to the café to drink soda-water, I felt a halo settle round my head: I should not have been more set up had Count Cavour himself invited me. He called me by my Christian name, but abbreviated it because it seemed to him too long as it was, and hard to pronounce. He turned it into "Mondo" or "Mondino" …
My adoration for him reached such a pitch, that I imitated his walk and accent, and whistled from morning to night the marches which he most frequently called upon his trumpeters to play. I do not remember how long this happiness of mine endured; I know that I expected it to last forever—as if Martinotti were likely to live his life out in our city because it would hurt my feelings to have him go! But the end came suddenly.
One night toward dusk, at the hour of "retreat", meeting me on the ramparts, he said:—
"Did you know that I am off to-morrow, with tho battalion, Mondino?" And seeing that I did not understand, he added—"Off for the Crimea".
People had been talking about the Crimean War for some time, but somehow it had never occurred to me that he might be ordered there. I could not find my voice. He smiled at my emotion, bis eyes full of compassion, then tried to console me by saying—"I've good hopes of escaping the Russians. They won't want to kill us all. And if I get off, it's quite likely that I shall come back here. Courage, Mondino! We shall meet again some day".
I could not keep back my tears. He looked at me for a little time—earnestly, gravely,—then turned and ran away, as though he had heard the sudden call of one of his superior officers. I went home sad at heart, and had hardly crossed the threshold when I told my mother the mournful tidings, broken by a sob, "Corporal Martinotti … is going to the war".
"Poor fellow!" she exclaimed; then added, to console me, that I would better go and wave him a farewell at the station.
Next evening I rushed to the station; but it was empty. The battalion had left in the morning!
I stood there awhile, gazing with tearful eyes at the shining rails along which my friend had been borne away, following him in my fancy to that far-distant country, full of terror and mystery, from which I did not believe that he would ever return …
What I do remember is that I often thought about my corporal, so far away; and that after bis departure I ceased to have anything to do with the few bersaglieri who still remained, as if he had taken with him all the poetry of his corps and all the enthusiasm of my heart."
The account of how by-and-by Martinotti came back, lively, well and gay, to renew the intimacy with "Mondino" is equally suggestive.
Two Other Liter-
In the novelette "Imre: A Memorandum", by the present writer, a homosexual romance that has something of a military atmosphere—the hero of the little tale being a young Hungarian officer who is an inborn Uranian—there occur several references to the struggles of a soldier nature, unclear as to just what may be the troublous sexual quality of its regard for other comrades-in-arms, dreading detection of the mysterious feeling, hiding all its promptings day by day in regimental life; and finally tormented by an almost insupportable struggle with a passion for a brother-officer who never suspects the character of the younger man's regard for him. Hourly terror lest his homosexuality should be guessed, makes Lieutenant Imre von N— seem unemotional, reserved and unappreciative. The following passage is near the close of the story, where is reviewed Lieutenant Imre's difficult social policy toward warm friendships:
"Twice Imre had been on the point of suicide. And though there had been experiences in the Military Academy, and certain much later ones, to teach him that he was not unique in Austria-Hungary, or elsewhere in the world, still Imre unluckily had got from them (as is too often the hap of the Uranian) chiefly the sense of how widely despised, mocked, and loathed is the Uranian Race. Also how sordid and debasing are the average associations of the homosexual kind; how likely to be wanting in idealism, in exclusiveness, in those pure and manly influences which ought to be bound up in them and to radiate from them! He had grown to have a horror of similisexual types, of all contacts with them. And yet, until lately, they could not he torn entirely nut of his life. Most Uranists know why!"
"Still, they had been so expelled, finally. The turning-point had come with Karvaly. It. meant the story of the development of a swift, admiring- friendship from the younger soldier toward the older. But alas! this had gradually become a fierce, despairing homosexual love. This, at its height, had been as destructive of Imre's peace as it was hopeless. Of course, it was impossible of confession to its object. Karvaly was no narrow intellect; his affection for Imre was warm. But he would never have understood, not even as some sort of a diseased illusion, this sentiment in Imre. Much less would he have tolerated it for an instant. The inevitable rupture of their whole intimacy would have come with Imre's betrayal of his passion. So he had done wisely to hide every throb from Karvaly. How sharply Karvaly had on one occasion expressed himself on masculine homosexuality, Imre cited to me with other remembrances. At the time of the vague scandal about the ex-officer Clement, whom Imre and I had met, Imre had asked Karvaly, with a fine carelessness,—'Whether he; believed that there was any scientific excuse for such a sentiment?' Karvaly answered, with the harsh conviction of a dionistic temperament that has never so much as paused to think of the matter as a question in psychology … "If I found that you cared for another man that way, youngster, I should give you my best revolver, and tell you to but a bullet through your brains within an hour! Why, if I found that you thought of me so, I should brand you in the Officer's Casino tonight, and shoot you myself, at ten paces, tomorrow morning!… Men are not to live when they turn beasts … Oh, damn your doctors and scientists! A man's a man, and a woman's a woman! You can't mix up their emotions like that".
"The dread of Karvaly's detection, the struggle with himself to subdue passion, not merely to hide it, and along with these nerve-wearing solicitudes, the sense of what the suspicion of the world about him would inevitably bring on his head, had put Imre, little by little, into a sort of panic. He maintained an exaggerated attitude of safety that had wrought on him unluckily, in many a valuable social relation. He wore his mask each and every instant, resolving to make it his natural face before himself! Having, discovered, through intimacy with Karvaly, how a warm friendship on the part of the homosexual temperament, over and over takes to itself the complexion of homosexual love—the one emotion constantly likely to rise in the other and to blend itself inextricably into its alchemy—Imre had simply sworn to make no intimate regimental friendship again! This, without showing himself in the least unfriendly; indeed with his being more hail-fellow-well-met than otherwise with his comrades in the A—Infantry."
"But there Imre stopped! He bound his warm heart in a chain, the vowed tepid fraternity to the whole world, he assisted no advances of warm, particular regard from any comrade. In his soldier-life gradually he became that friend of everybody in general who is the friend of nobody in particular! He lived in a state of perpetual defence in his regiment, as in whatever else was social to him at Szent-Istvánhely. So surely as he admired another man—would gladly have won his generous and virile affection—Imre turned away from that man! He covered this morbid state of self-inclusion, this solitary life (such it was, apart from the relatively short intimacy with Karvaly) with laughter and a most artistic semblance of brusqueness; of manly preoccupation with private affairs. Above all with the skilful cultivation of his repute as a Lothario who was nothing if not sentimental and absorbed in—woman! This is possibly the most common device, as it is the securest, on the part of an Uranian. Circumstances favoured Imre in it; and he gave it its full mystery. Its cruel irony was often almost humorous to Imre".
Military Prostitution. To the important topic of male prostitution in general an extended reference will occur in this book presently. But at this point must be noticed specifically military prostitution: particularly by young soldiers in large cities and garrisons.
This phase of "the social evil" has become enormously diffused and obvious in Europe, as in the Orient. The common soldier, likewise the soldier of better than humble grade, in almost every country, every military administration and garrison town, exercises largely clandestine prostitution. The motives are various.
In some cases the young soldier is more or less constitutionally homosexual. He likes coition only with a male, and would seek that, even could he not expect to be paid for it, like any other harlot. In a proportion of examples he is bi-sexual. Perhaps he is too poor to give himself heterosexual relief through a brothel; or else is afraid of disease. In another proportion, the soldier is not at all homosexual. He sells his body to a stranger, or regular patron, simply as an easy though rather irksome avocation. A mercenary motive is probably the most common. In those countries where the standing armies are large, compulsory service long, and the soldier in the ranks has but meagre pay, he takes to prostitution to increase his narrow exchequer. He finds that he does not get enough to satisfy his proverbially good appetite; unless he in an orderly or has won over a sympathetic cook-maid. He cannot keep in his pocket the few extra coppers for such trivial luxuries as his cigarettes, his glass of beer, his little stake at a game of cards, his evening in a cheap seat in a theater; not to speak of possessing cash for female society of an easy no-virtue sort. Sometimes he cannot without economy even keep his uniform and appointments in smart order, or pay for his postage-stamps to write to his people or his sweetheart, unless his family allows him a modest fund. That aid is not usual from humble households. He cannot make a penny for himself, so long as his military "time" lasts. Even as an officer's servant, he has but derisory wages. Soldier-life, the duties of barracks and drill are tedious or hateful to him. He wants diversion when the day is over; but many a time he cannot allow himself anything more amusing than a walk, or a free seat in a public park, till he returns to his caserne. On holidays, he often does not know what to do with himself, to kill the idle time.
But the stratophilic civilian is always near, to prevent a wholly unprofitable use of some of the recruit's hours of freedom. We will suppose the lad tall, well-built, robust and from eighteen to twenty years old. He is probably not sexually "innocent". If he be so, and hears what is said among his fellows in the barracks, he soon loses in moral sensitiveness. As was said, he may not be—often he is not—a born homosexual. But he allows himself to drift into the practice of sitting in public resorts where strangers come; in the parks and restaurant-gardens, well-known for equivocal usefulness. He goes to certain baths, to cheap cafés and theaters, of like repute; letting friendly gentlemen scrape acquaintance with him. In a park or suburb, comes the classic aid of a cigarette. Complaisantly he "takes walks" into secluded corners of the place with affectionate strangers, or gets into the way of accompanying them to their lodgings, for an hour or so. The price of giving his physical beauty and sexual vigor, even if with no good-will for the act, to the embraces of some casual homosexual client brings him more money in half an hour than he is likely to receive as his whole week's pay, even at the low quid pro quo of two or three marks, a couple of florins, three or four lire, or a couple of half crowns, for his amiabilities. The "Trade" aspect of it grows on him.—"Why not?" he asks himself. The commerce in a large town becomes easy, successful, and it is practically undetected. He soon discovers that whatever is suspected among his companions of him or of each other, little is said. So many of his fellows engage in the same by-trade of an evening! And as indicated, while soldier-prostitutes may vastly prefer sexual intercourse with women, and may make homosexual complaisances pay for normal gratifications, still, they are likely to lose repugnance to homosexual coitions. Many a young soldier grows into preferring it; he literally first "endures then embraces" it. Lasting intimacies are formed between soldier-prostitutes and civilians, when a particular regiment is stationed long in the same city. It is a curious fact that, while all sorts of soldiery are given to homosexualism, and furnish amateur prostitutes for the pleasure of the civilian, the cavalry, the artillery and the hussar regiments offer the majority. Various explanations of this are given.
Mischief to the
Why the Uranian
Affects the Sol-
There are practical reasons, even when the patron is of far superior social grade. The young artillerist, cavalryman, or what else, is soldierly, well-dressed, and generally gains a fine physique. Often he has distinct beauty of face and figure. In Italy where lower classes are strikingly beautiful, to which attraction is to be added the refinement of the Italian proletariat and the pleasure that many a young Italian soldier takes in homosexual intercourse, the military prostitute is specially engaging. He is a marked contrast to the dingy, chlorotic male prostitute of civilist kind, who is hanging about the homosexual's steps. The soldier is physically magnetic. He is a logical complement to the average Uranian. He is often attractive by his boyish candour, or what passes for it, by a pleasant manner and companion ability. Even sophistication does not always destroy these traits; the young soldier realizes that to assume them is an alluring part of his evening-profession. Again, he is not a pickpocket or thief, as a rule; he can be brought into the lodging of his hirer without danger of petty losses. The soldier, too, is usually satisfied with a small sum for an hour's of himself,—"for any thing you like to do"; while even more decent civilian male-prostitutes are as greedy of money as their female concurrents. The soldier is clean in person, as part of his military education, if not of his instincts. When he is emphatically homosexual himself, then he is almost certain to be free from sexual diseases. Thus the specters of syphilis and its like do not haunt the philostratic patron.
But above all reasons, at least in a large part of Europe, why the Uranian chooses a soldier-prostitute are the facts that the soldier is likely not to be brutal, and not a blackmailer. (See a succeeding chapter.) The soldier has the wholesome fear of military disgrace if he compromises himself. True, he may wish that he could get "something extra", little or much, by threatening his client with scandal; and he does sometimes attempt it. But such a disagreeable surprise is not usual. The soldier knows that he has as much to lose by "a row" as has his patron. So he is discretion itself, as a rule; makes himself useful; is paid his few marks or kronen or lire; and goes his way, with a friendly shake of the hand and his smiling—"Till next time!".
tion in Central
Europe and Else-
where: Its wide
Copenhagen, Christiania and—especially—Helsingfors, are also notable posts for typical soldier prostitution.
In Austria-Hungary, soldier-harlotry is universal. Such parks as the Stadtpark of Vienna, or the Erzsébet-tér in Budapest, or almost any square or promenade of Linz, Innsbruck, Prag, Debreczin, Temesvár, and so on, are notable markets of an evening for any type of military youth that may be preferred. The Uranian has only to stroll, or to seat himself in a tranquil corner, to have unmistakeable opportunities. Usually the soldier-prostitute detaches himself from any companions; and even if several of the same regiment are en vedette for custom, they carefully leave each other alone. Comparing of notes, if any, will come later—at the beer-hall or the caserne. Sometimes however two soldiers have an understanding; they hunt in couples only, or intermittently, and keep a sort of silent partnership; a practice neither so "safe" nor so agreable for the client. In Vienna, some years ago, there were two young Hungarian troopers of exceptional beauty of physique who, always advertised their attractions in company; walking arm-in-arm about certain haunts, in their smartest uniforms, and often declining absolutely to be bargained-for—separately!
The reader must not suppose that military prostitution is confined to merely the lowest rank of the army. In Germany and in Austria-Hungary a considerable proportion of non-commissioned officers are committed to it, though naturally more cautiously, and at a "professional" tariff perceptibly high, but not always sexually quite logical. In England, France, Spain, Russia, Italy, South-Eastern and Oriental Europe, a good number of impecunious petty officers, and others not such—lieutenants, second-lieutenants, captains—maintain sexual relations with uranian friends of wealth, to add to their pay. The "tariff" is, we will say, from twenty shillings upward, per "rendezvous", or else a special (often largo) subsidy carries them past tailor's-bills, mess-expenses and so on. There is, of course, an element in officer-prostitution due to the officer's real homosexuality. But if he can make money by the secret, he is quite likely to do so. In Vienna, several young officers of elegant appearance, and of distinguished but impoverished stock, have recently become known as "accessible". The "relations" of sundry military-men, removed members of a reigning house, awhile ago were commented satirically. One officer of a great royal Guard carries his cynicism so far that ho systematically haunts baths and public resorts where rich foreign clients are to be met. In Berlin, there is much of the same thing. Under-officers to be "had" abound. To give only one instance, a certain young Bavarian officer in Munich is said to have met paid almost his living expenses and debts, by "cultivation" of homosexual foreigners of wealth. He travelled some months, a few years ago, on this sort of basis with a wealthy Englishman. In another capital lives a certain gallant Hauptmann Z—, whose lavishness, always an object of wonder to his unsuspecting comrades, is explicable by the relation he sustains to Prince X—, a well-known figure in local aristocratic and military life. In Florence, a young officer of distinguished family and looks was long known as an entretenu, and was a topic of frequent gossip, until his suicide a few seasons ago.
In Canadian garrison-towns there are to be met quite the same aspects of wide-spread, everyday British soldier-prostitution. In the foreign Colonies of Great Britain, not only does the British soldier sell; he becomes a client and buyer of pederastic favours from young natives, as in the Orient.
In the United
States, and South
The Greek army (like that of Finland—an instance of les extrêmes se touchent) has long had the reputation of being one in which soldier-prostitution along with all phases of military similisexualism are excessively diffused. The prevalence of homosexual relationships between Greek officers and the rank-and-file, and the "" of all troops of the Greek service, from philostratic civilians, have been almost notorious. Recently an unpleasant little international incident occured between Greece and Italy, in consequence of an article exposing homosexuality in the Greek army, written for a Roman journal by Professor Spiro Ladikos, of Rome; which led to a request for his expulsion from Italian territory, on the representations of the Greek Government—which was rather disturbed by the indiscretion of the statements so published.
In the French army, scandals of similisexual kind are far from being unknown, though they are not so often manifested as in the German service. A serious affair of the sort occurred recently (in July, 1908) at Angers, in which eight or ten soldiers were implicated, and a rape on a young comrade was disclosed as an incident.
of Officials in
The topic of military prostitution will recur in the tenth chapter of this survey, when we shall have under special consideration the most openly criminal aspects of homosexualism—the uranian delinquent as blackmailer, homicide, souteneur and so on, or as the victim of such dangerously degenerate types.
the Naval Servi-
ces: its Relatively
as a "Profession"
and as Systemat-
and Athletes in
General as Ura-
In the "Jahrbuch für Sexuelle Zwischenstufen" for the year 1900, is a reference to the prevalence of homosexual relations between Oriental athletes, ring-performers, and the like; the text being the famous Arabic troupe known as the "Uled Sidi" one; communicated by Herr M. Gudenfeldt. An eminent "bare-back rider," an Englishman by birth, well-known as one of the international artists in the Circus X—, (a man to be esteemed for refinement and serious character) stated to the present writer, some four or five years ago, that in his judgment "one male circus-athlete ring-rider, gymnast, etc., in ten was homosexual"; whether as a complete Uranian or vacillating between uranianism and dionianism. Some highly passional "homosexual affairs" have had, as protagonists, the aristocratic lovers of riders in the ring, or of statuesque trapeze-artists.
The Uranian in
ic and Political
Life: Various In-
King Edw.Meet you for this, proud, overbearing peers?
Ere my sweet Gaveston shall part from me,
This isle shall fleet upon the ocèan,
And wander to the unfrequented Ind.
. . . . . . . I will not yield!
Curse me, depose me, do the worst you can!
And share it equally amongst you all,
So I may have some nook or corner left
To frolic with my dearest Gaveston.
Archbish.Nothing will alter us, we are resolved.
Lancast.Come, come, subscribe!
Young Mort.Why should you love him whom the world so hates?
King Edw.Because he loves me more than all the world.
All, none but rude and savage-minded men
Would seek the ruin of my Gaveston.
You that be noble-born should pity him.
Archbish.Are you content to banish him the realm?
King. Edw.I see I must, and therefore am content.
Instead of ink, I’ll write it with my tears.
King. Edw.Tis done! And now, accursed hand, fall off!
Another French sovereign, one of wholly different stamp from the two just named, the marvellously politic tyrannical, superstitious, cruel Louis XI, impresses one as an innately uranistic nature; uniting it with a cold-blooded homicidal mania worthy of Caligula. One of Louis's special favourites (see Comines's annals) was Cressol, Governor of Dauphiné (1473). A woman-despiser, turning to sexuality furtively when cynical passion moved him, Louis XI is a dark shape in the gallery of vaguer royal homosexuals.
Philippe d'Orléans, the Regent of France, a prince of fine natural qualities but corrupt to the marrow early in his manhood, casts a particular shadow across the line of kingly homosexuals. His orgies, in the Palais-Royal and elsewhere, have been given sufficiently in detail for many generations of readers of French backstairs scandal. One such "affair" between Philippe and a certain much petted companion, the Abbé de Choisy, is distinguished. The same Abbé de Choisy furnishes possibly the most brilliantly demoralizing, cynical type of an uranian courtier to be met in French print. The caustic private correspondence of the Regent's German mother, Elizabeth-Charlotte, Princess Palatine, by her marriage, Duchess of Orléans (1652-1721), throws fugitive light on aristocratic uranianism in Paris under the Regency—anything but to its respectability. Numerous other records, even more graphic and at first-hand as depictions, are at the service of the curious.
The period of the Regency, as also that of Louis XY, developed aristocratic French uranianism so much that really scandalized remark on it was not over-common. The Bachaumont Memoirs, the secret "Journal" of the Police Inspectors under Sartine, the Cheverney, d'Argenson, Barbier and similar records, offer interesting witness to this. About 1760, for instance, we are told quite casually that the Italian ambassador Erizzo,—"has just given to young Fleury, an actor in the Montensier troupe a cabriolet and horse, so that Fleury can come offener to Paris … The Ambassador keeps Fleury, just as he would a pretty woman … Some days ago, coming from a supper with the Duc d'Aiguillon, the Ambassador went to bed with Fleury; and gave him a ring worth fifty louis d'or and twenty-five louis dor in cash … They say positively that the Ambassador has just settled an income of eight thousand livres on Fleury, over and above thirty louis d'or a month …" Under the Regency and during all of the reign of Louis XV, the garden and arcades of the Palais-Royal were notoriously (and practically without any hindrance) evening by evening, the grand pederastic resort and market for homosexual prostitution in Paris. Very distinguished personages were not above resorting thither. Handsome boys, frequently of tender age, were openly bargained-for, between their parents or other keepers, and Parisian gentleman of wealth and rank: while adult types of the profession, or amateurs, intrigued in unabashed gayety and assurance.
The Duc de Vermandois, is an addition to the list of aristocratic French Uranians. Whether the mysterious Chevalier d'Eon was one or not—at most, in part—Is to be questioned. His memoirs do not determine him nor do the many records from others, as to his being wholly free from uranianism. Of him, more in another chapter, as of some others we have mentioned.
Several royal Muscovite homosexuals have reigned. One was Paul I. The other was no less than Peter the Great. Peter is a further instance of dionism and uranianism, blended in one individual. Vehemently erotic as a young man, he was given to homosexual intimacies while a frequenter of women. The dualism 'of taste did not disappear as Peter grew older. In view of his relations with both sexes, and of his wonderful energy of character, there appears much of the Oriental in Peter's complex, ungovernably animal tendencies. A special uranian favorite of Peter was the celebrated parvenu Mentschnikoff. The notorious uranianism of Alexander I of Russia, has already been mentioned. But Alexander was not the last of Russian princes to be known as an Uranian. Two conspicuous scions in our own day have been actors in "affairs" that excited brisk comments in other cities than St. Petersburg.
In the reign of Charles I, occurred the famous divorce case of Lord Audley on similisexual grounds of explicit detail, a celebrated scandal of its epoch.
The English Rest-
In the reign of Queen Anne and of the first Georgian sovereigns there were enough suggestions of homosexual intimacies between personages in high society and politics to receive cutting allusions of poets and other satirical writers. Lampoons and squibs of such kind flew about the clubs and coffee-houses. Pope has biting references to such Court-favourites as Lord Hervey—"Sporus, that mere white curd of asses'-milk".
In the Guelphic blood have been remarkable, from time to time, traces of reaction from a notorious heterosexualism to a notorious homosexuality. The Hanoverian dynasty has shown it. George III, when a young man, was charged by common report with sexual intimacy with his personal and political favourite, Lord Bute. The caricaturists of the time are prodigal of allusions to this accusation. Bute, when prime-minister, was the subject of countless pasquinades not omitting it. It is to this sort of gossip that Byron refers in his poem "The Vision of Judgement" when he declares that the annals of George III show—"How to a minion first he gave the helm". George the Fourth seems to have been consistently heterosexual. But his brother, Ernest, Duke of Cumberland, who in his younger days had the family-beauty, early was marked out in English society for uranian amours; and eventually had to appear in a court of justice because of the murder of his valet Sellis—an affair about which floated a thick cloud of homosexualism. Between the Duke and certain members of his household there had been criminal intimacies. The trial mentioned was the sensation of the hour. Sellis was supposed to have had a connection with the Duke, and to have been supplanted by another servant, Neale. According to another theory, Sellis (who was found dead in his room, with his throat cut, in circumstances that precluded ideas of suicide) was murdered by the Duke, because Sellis had threatened the latter with exposure of his intimacy with Neale. The Duke got out of the affair with great difficulty. He became presently King of Hanover, and was the center of a German court plentiful in homosexual interests. Within the present generation of English royalty,
another princely personage (since deceased) was supposed to be among an aristocratic clique implicated in a famous London homosexual esclandre. It is, in fact, believed that this affair was hushed up "so expeditiously, because it came so near to the throne; certain other high-born participants gaining time to "leave their country for their country's good".
The wide prevalence of Uranian relationships in British "high society" to-day is too well-attested, too familiar the world around by more or less noted scandals and malodourous legal processes, to require extensive reference here. Several phases of it must be cited in other sections of this study, in appropriate connections. Mayfair's sensational divorce-proceedings have added evidence to the aggregate. Of the similisexual tastes of Englishmen of "our finest social circles" at home, a tacit evidence is their persistent residence abroad in countries where they can feel safer from suspicion and from blackmailing scandals. One eminent personage in British political life, who once reached the highest honours in a career that has appeared to be taken up or thrown by with curious capriciousness or hesitancy, is a constant absentee in his beautiful home in Southern Europe, whence only gentle rumours of his racial homosexuality reach his birth-land.
Particularizing Germany, the newest "Berlin Scandals" as they have been called (for which there is room for only a few lines in this book) are showing how German homosexualism wears the broad-striped toga; approaches the throne now as ever; is perhaps even more contemporaneously born in the purple than might prudently be admitted. The "Harden Cases," and their immediate successors, which have not spared even an Imperial Chancellor ( though in his instance there was no obvious personal foundation for the suggestion—repudiated as a libel) have been of indirect as well as direct bearings. There can be little doubt that the Schulenburg, Moltke, Eulenburg, Hohenau and Lynar cases, as others, have been got out of nervous public attention as quickly as possible, to avoid compromising hundreds of aristocratic similisexuals in Germanic territory. The notorious scandals before Berlin aristocracy, in 1903 known as the "Affair of the Lakes", in which a clique of young scions and old ones, mostly rich and titled residents along the beautiful shores of the Müggelsee, were in the habit of quitting their villas at night, and sailing around the lake, naked but not at all ashamed, their boats wreathed in garlands, lighted with torches and lanterns—amid orgies of the sort described by Tacitus, more or less imitated—were distinguished for nobly-born participators. The need of interrupting these proceedings without making too great an aristocratic scandal gave the Berlin courts much trouble. Matters were compromised after the most unavoidable arrests, and by fines and hints to self-exile.
The Italian Re-
King Ludwig II
'There is no need in lengthening this list. Obviously into the demesne of contemporary aristocratic life there is both delicacy and difficulty in entering too frankly. In the next chapter, we shall see how incessantly is homosexual the man professionally of literary and aesthetic callings. He is often aristocratic of position; is often also of finer fibre than many kings and princes.
Differences in Sex-
ual Choice: the
Uranian of High
The Royal Uran-
Classic types of amazonians are plentiful. Among early ones we have the Biblical Deborah, seeress, judge and captain over Israel—all at once. We have Bonduca, Boadicea, Tomyris, Zenobia, Jeanne Dare, Margaret of England, the terrible women-warriors of the houses of Flanders and Penthièvre—every school-girl knows thorn. The pages of mythology and romance furnish a long array of soldierly ideals; Semiramis, Penthesilea, Thalestris, Camilla, Bradamante, Brindomart, Hippolyta, the screaming Valkyrs the resplendently divine Minerva—that noblest conception of female divinity ever evolved by human imagination in any religion—and the mystic, cruel Bellona. Diana is un-feminine. Even Venus enters the battlefield, in Homer and Vergil. Apart from myths, the military spirit seems almost supreme in such uraniad types as Samura, the heroine of the defence of Ancona, the American Moll Pitcher, the valiant Anna Liihring, of Bremen; or the Hungarian heroines of Erlau's siege, who fought like the strongest and bravest of men. In many savage tribes to day women are as expert fighters as the men. But despite outward virility in such types, we cannot classify them as true Uraniads: for their amorous instincts are either too unclear, or else are more or less conclusively heterosexual. We say—"But yet a woman.
Sudden political upheavals create the soldiering amazonian. Sometimes she is fiercer and more sanguinary than most men. In the French Revolution period, the Vendée campaigns elicited squads of women, fighting in the ranks. Remarkable examples of feminine soldiering enter into the savage Chouan chronicles; But we may note that the French Revolution, though in the Vendée productive of notable heroines of camp and battle, does not afford us so many examples of women-soldiers, who were drawn to combat- by patriotism and natural firmness of nature, as it does instances of women who were détraquées; unheroic in their blood-thirstiness and in sheer passion for excitement; lower-class amazons particularly. One realizes such a strain of sanguinary unfeminity in Latins, at a Spanish bull-fight or a French guillotining. Such were the terrible tricoteuses at the guillotine, in 1792-93-94.
The sporadic courage of a-woman-duellist, with rapier, broadsword and pistol, is essentially of the military kind. The French Communal struggles in 1870-71, developed many amazingly courageous women-soldiers, who defended barricades and fought like tigresses. But such amazons were of moral courage; often killing and burning for the mere frantic nervous pleasure of such a debauch of blood. Many of these unsexed women were similisexual—sapphistic prostitutes, or similar, in instincts and habits. On the other hand, many were entirely normal sexually.
In fact, the woman-soldier whose type and history night be taken as presupposing her being an Uraniad, but whose similisexualism should not be affirmed without conclusive knowledge, is of constant recurrence. Captain Rosa Castellanos, a heroine of the recent Spanish-American War in Cuba, was a conspicuous example of the woman-warrior. One of the recently-deceased pensionnaires of the Hôtel des Invalides in Paris, Madame D—, had fought with great distinction in the Napoleonic campaigns, had received formal right to wear male clothing (of course including her uniform) and died at a great age, in the national institution named. Very recently came to newspaper notice quite as striking a military woman. One of the magistrates presiding in the chief criminal court of Toulon summoned as witness in a robbery-affair Madame I—, mentioned as a widow, employed at La Verriere. The justice was rather surprised when a gentleman presented "himself," correctly attired as such, in frock-coat and overcoat, and so on. But Madame I—, for she it was, explained that during thirty-seven years she had worn only male clothing, by special permission from the French Government, because of her notable service in the Franco-Prussian War, in which she had taken part with honour and danger, as a spy and in the ranks. Madame I— gave no other than a masculine impression of herself; she smoked and drank moderately. She declared her age as about sixty-four. She had been a witness in the trial of Marshal Bazaine.
The annals of all military nations are full of examples of women-soldiers. They have marched in the ranks with common soldiery, they have commanded with skill as officers; this, in a great proportion of instances, without detection of sex, till wounded or dead on the field or in the hospital. They have defended trench and bastion against the Ottoman in Hungary, the Spaniards in Holland, the Moor in Spain, the invader in Italy, and to a particular extent have served Poland. The hundred wars of Germany and Austria have found women fighting shoulder to shoulder by their brothers, with pike or musket, serving the cannon instead of rooking children to sleep or sweeping kitchens. The latest frontier-fighting in Albanian, Macedonian and Turkish localities has striking examples of female soldiering, several officers being women,
A Fighting Ura-
niad: Catalina de
An Heroic Sold-
tow, the Heroine
A Female Cavalry-
These warrior-uraniads remind us, verily, of Schiller's lines, in his "Jungfrau von Orleans" where the heroic Maid exclaims:
"Nicht mein Geschlecht beschwöre! Nenne mich nicht Weib!
Gleich wie die Körperlosen Geister, die nicht freien,
Auf irdische Weise, schliess ich mich an kein
Geschlecht der Menschen an!" …
The Uraniad as
Manyexamples are undoubtedly not so much those of the Uraniad completely, amatively such, as either of "asexuals"; or of women more or less masculinized in body, temperament, nerves and intellects. But they illustrate departurer from the feminine toward an Intersex. of manifest individuality, and of characteristically similisexual impulses in love-desire.
- The testimony elicited during the very recent homosexual scandals known as the Harden, Schulenburg, Eulenburg, Lynar, and concurrent processes in 1907-8, have thrown some interesting side-lights on German military, prostitution, as on German homosexualism in general, especially in high life: though such data are in no way novel, and although every method possible to suppress such matter from publicity was used by the legal and military courts concerned. The press-work of this book being fcfar advanced at the time of these remarkable processes—some of them being not yet ended as the writer makes this hasty reference to them—it is unfortunately not possible to cite them at any length in course of this study.
- During Robespierre's long sojourn in the Duplay family, his intimacy with the handsome young son—eighteen years old—was increasingly a topic of scandal and satire behind the back of the dreaded Incorruptible. For the persistent legend of any romantic tie with Eléonore Duplay, one of the daughters of the family, a girl who seems to have cultivated a sentiment for Robespierre, there is no foundation of fact—Robespierre maintaining a fraternal and rather bored attitude toward her. Of Robespierre's taking sexual interest in any woman no evidence sustains sifting. As to the lad Jacques-Michel Duplay, an indication of the scandal occurs in the fact that when the boy was hustled into the Prison of Sainte-Pélagie, on the 9-10-th Thermidor, somewhat after Robespierre had been brought thither, one of the prison-crowd called out—"Ladies and gentlemen, I beg to to you the arrival of Robespierre's ganymède—along with his Prime-Minister!" (The latter reference was to young Duplay's father).