TGF Re-Run: Trans America

A History of Transgenderism In America Pre-1877
by Lauren Rene Hotchkiss

First in a series

There have been transgenderists longer than there has been history to record them. Crossdressing is referred to in the Bible (Deuteronomy and Leviticus), in early Sumerian cuneiform texts, as well as in ancient Egypt, Africa, South America, the Orient and other cultures. For our present purposes, however, we will confine ourselves to North America and from the Pre-colonial period through of the Reconstruction of 1877.

Like any other minority, transgenderists have not gained societal integration and acceptance overnight. It has been through the hard work and positive example of individuals throughout history. Let’s take a look now at some of the people that have made this progress possible.

Lord Cornbury, “Governess” of New York

The first of our transgendered historical figures, Edward Hyde, Lord Cornbury, (later Third Earl of Clarendon), New York’s first (and only) transgendered governor, regrettably scores somewhat below the high-water mark for American Transgenderists. Lord Cornbury was the Governor of the royal provinces of New York and New Jersey from 1701 to 1708, and quite possibly the first non-native North American transgenderist.

Lord Cornbury was a flamboyant, fun-loving character who liked to dress up in women’s clothes, at one point even having his portrait painted in a low-necked gown. He was, nonetheless, heterosexual, happily married, and the father of many children. This made it all the more difficult for his contemporaries to understand his crossdressing.

According to public statements, he felt that as Queen Anne’s representative in the new world, he should represent her as literally as possible. On one occasion he opened the Government Assembly in women’s dress. When some of those about him remonstrated him, he replied, “You are very stupid not to see the propriety of it. In this place and particularly on this occasion I represent a woman (Queen Anne) and ought in all respects to represent her as faithfully as I can.”

One cannot help wondering, however, if the good Viscount would have felt as strongly on this point if William III had still been reigning or good King George I had yet taken the throne. Be this as it may, according to those around him, he also conducted other business so clothed, and often sat at the open window of his home dressed in lavish gowns — much to the great amusement of his neighbors.

Corrupt administration

Despite his distinguished family (he was the grandson of historian and statesman Clarendon and first cousin to Queen Anne — to whom he owed his position), his record as a colonial administrator was less than satisfactory. He established a level of corruption and arrogant maladministration unequalled in colonial government before or since.

In one case, he simply put into his own pockets the money that the assembly had appropriated to renovate the Narrows defenses. This malfeasance in the performance of his office, on top of his sartorial predilections with which those about him were less than delighted, made him far from popular with his constituents. On several occasions, attempts were made to remove him from office.

Although probably not responsible for the onslaught of yellow fever which swept the town in 1702 — the first of many such plagues, New Yorkers were ready and willing to blame him for nearly everything else. He had begun to misappropriate public funds to such a large degree — making no distinction between his own money and the City’s — that he was eventually arrested for debt and nearly expelled from the province. So flagrant were his personal excesses that New Yorkers of every political faction united to send the Queen a formal listing of their grievances. Cornbury was soon removed from office in disgrace.

In many ways, considering the Puritanical mores of the New England Colonies, Cornbury was a character quite out of place. When looking at the long and outrageous history of New York City, however, perhaps not. Perhaps Lord Cornbury was a true New Yorker after all — just ahead of his time.

A Pirate’s Life for Me: Ann Bonny

Moving from land to sea, never were there two more famous female pirates than Mary Read and Ann Bonny. Mary, unfortunately, we must discount, at least for the purposes of this paper, since as far as history knows she never set foot in America. But Ann… ah, now that’s another story.

She was born in 1690 in County Cork, Ireland, an illegitimate child of Will Cormack, an attorney-at-law and his wife’s maid. When they discovered that she was pregnant, they fled across the atlantic to Charleston, South Carolina. Charleston was at this time as yet only 30-years-old and already famous as a haunt of pirates.

Ann was raised on a plantation that her father had bought shortly after their arrival, and they soon settled into the social order of the tide-water South. Much to the disgust of Ann, her father had plans to marry her into the planter aristocracy. She had a wild disposition from her earliest childhood, however, and during a tempestuous teenagehood, married pirate James Bonny. After being banished by her father, they went to New Providence in the Bahamas, also at that time a haven for pirates.

Forced into a stay-at-home wifely role, despite Bonny’s promises of an egalitarian marriage, she soon left him and took to the sea where she met and fell in love with Calico Jack Rackham, who, besides his impressive track record of seizing prizes, was the originator of the idea of the skull and crossbones as the pirate flag.

As the buccaneer’s code forbade women sailing on pirate vessels, believing it invited storms and sea serpents, she sailed with Jack disguised as a man. It is unknown whether Ann was able to keep up the pretense during all of the first trip as pirate ships were notoriously cramped and allowed little or no privacy. There must have been sufficient opportunity for a few secluded moments, however, as it was on this voyage that Ann became pregnant, later bearing the child in Cuba.

Bloody Twosome

Ann dropped the pretense of being a man when Mary Read joined the crew after the ship she had been sailing on was taken by Rackham. With the partnership of the two women, more adventurous and bloodthirsty even than the men, Rackham’s crew began a reign of terror in the Caribbean and along the gulf coast of North America. They showed no favoritism nor allegiance in their choice of prey, raiding Spanish, Dutch, English, and even American shipping.

In 1720, Britain began to crack down on piracy in the Bahamas. During the course of this operation, Rackham and his crew were captured by several frigates of His Majesty’s Navy while sailing off the coast of Jamaica. Rather than make a fight of it, considering the odds, Jack surrendered.

The whole crew, including Mary Read and Ann Bonny were put on trial in Spanish Town, Jamaica. The judge, Sir Nicholas Laws, was an old friend of Ann’s father, a fact that Ann and Mary hoped would weigh in their favor, but in no way could be sure of. After a lengthy trial which included the examination of many witnesses to Jack’s acts of piracy, nearly the whole crew were found guilty. Jack was hanged, as were many of his men.

Ann to Husband: Fight Like a Man

Ann and Mary had always fought bravely, unlike many of the male pirates who were often drunk and cowardly. This is what probably prompted her, as Jack was being hanged, to cry out, “If you had fought like a man, you would not now be hanged like a dog.”

The male members of the crew now safely hung or imprisoned,

The judge then turned to the women. Although Ann and Mary were also soon found guilty, they escaped immediate execution when they revealed that they were both pregnant. British law of the time forbade the hanging of a pregnant woman, the credo being “the baby in the womb must live.” After bearing her second child, Ann’s father apparently bribed authorities for her freedom. Mary was not so lucky, she died in prison.

This was not quite the end of the tale, however, for there is a legend of a supposedly transgendered pirate named Anne Bonney (or “Boney”) that sailed as a part of the loose-knit pirate organization commanded by Jean Laffite that plied the Southeastern coast of the United States. Beyond this, nothing is known, as Laffite, following his aid in helping to defend New Orleans against the British in the War of 1812 and a subsequent pardon by General Andy Jackson, sailed out of history, never to be heard of again.

This was much later in history of course, and would have made Ann about 120 or so, but perhaps it was a great (or great-great) granddaughter carrying on the family tradition.

Tags: crossdressing, featured, History

Category: Transgender History