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Full citation: 

Derry, Caroline. 2020. Lesbianism and the Criminal Law: Three Centuries of Legal Regulation in England and Wales. Palgrave Macmillan. ISBN 978-3-030-35299-8

Contents summary: 

Derry begins by contradicting the myth that Queen Victoria was the reason there were no laws in England against lesbianism. There are three problems with this myth: no such law was proposed; if it had been, the queen wouldn’t have any power to block it; and such a blockage wouldn’t explain the earlier absence of such laws. But the lack of specific laws doesn’t equal the “benign neglect” suggested by some historians. The main policy against lesbianism was silencing. Laws would recognize lesbianism as “a thing,” whereas silencing was aimed at preventing it from being imaginable.

That doesn’t mean there were no laws or sanctions brought to bear when lesbianism was seen as a threat. Nor was the progression of legal attitudes toward lesbianism consistent. The book uses specific case studies to examine the progression of official responses (both legal and medical) to the specter of sex between women. [Only two of the case studies fall before 1900, so my consideration of much of the book will be more cursory.]

Several themes emerge: the obscuring of lesbianism through denial or through equating lesbians with gay men; the connection between attitudes toward lesbianism and more general attitudes towards female sexuality; and the focus of the law on challenges to hetero-patriarchal privilege.

The next section of the chapter contains definitions. The focus of the book is on the regulation of lesbianism, not of lesbians, but the legal system for the most part avoided naming or recognizing lesbian relations or persons. The focus is on how the legal system viewed and treated people, not on self-identity or applicable modern identities. The book recognizes that the use of “lesbianism” is potentially anachronistic, but rejects some of the other scholarly approaches to the question and trusts the reader to understand the context just as with “family” or “marriage.”

While avoiding putting forth a definition for “lesbian” the law is clear about defining its concerns. It is concerned with relationships that represent a “facsimile of heterosexual marriage” while sidestepping the question of sex. Alternately, it is concerned with specifics of sexual activity: genital contact, penetration, analogues of PIV intercourse. In neither case is the law concerned with individual identity, but rather with whether the subjects can be rehabilitated to heterosexuality and her place in patriarchal society. Temporary deviations from hetero-patriarchy were of little interest, only sustained or permanent deviations. Affective bonds could be more threatening than sex. In that context, the book discusses the value to using the word “lesbian” rather than abandoning it as undefinable.

The legal record, in defining lesbian identity, avoids defining it via sex, even though sex is a constant specter. Further, defining lesbianism in terms of sexual activity first requires agreeing on what acts are categorized or understood as sexual. If sex is defined as PIV intercourse, then lesbians don’t have sex. Consider also that participation in specific sex acts is never required to categorize someone as heterosexual. Some historians have suggested using a cluster of practices, including genital, sex, emotional attachment, marriage avoidance, cross-dressing, and transgressing sexual norms. Any definition of lesbianism is inherently political.

With regard to the lesbian/trans-masculine question, this book is concerned with how the law treated individuals, without trying to sort out how they view themselves.

Silence around lesbianism can have many motivations, but by “silencing” the author means the “deliberate suppression of communication.” In particular, the suppression of a concept so that women do not have access to it, and specifically so that “respectable” women did not have access to it.

(There is a long discussion of silencing in a legal context.)

Part of the silencing included the displacement of lesbian possibilities onto the “other”: non-white, non-British, non-middle-class. The silencing was the opposite of “benign neglect” as rendering lesbianism unspeakable made defense against the accusation impossible. The author argues that the policy of silencing emerged in the 18th century, when sexual offenses moved from being the concern of the church to the concern of the court, and when prosecution shifted from concerning individual harm to general public harm. Reaching its apex in the 19th century, silencing has never entirely disappeared, though changed inform and focus.

Silencing has been one component of legal approaches to m/m sex (“unspeakable,” “sin not to be named,” etc.) but the primary tool in that context has been specific statutes and prosecutions. While m/m sex has been literally “policed”, f/f relations have largely been left to social control, in line with the control of women’s sexuality in general. Women are socially “policed” against crossing invisible lines on old manner of axes. Thus lesbianism need not be specified, except as one more transgression among the many. Women’s independence and agency were controlled in many ways that diminished lesbian possibilities without needing to name them. At the same time, the visibility of lesbianism in satire, classical text, medical, literature, and pornography did not contradict legal silencing as those media were socially restricted to a male audience.

The remainder of the introductory chapter contains a literature review, a discussion of primary sources (court and crime reporting), the methodology of the study, and a map of the contents of the book.

Contents summary: 

Changes in understandings of Lesbianism in the 18th century can be illustrated by newspaper and legal accounts of “female husbands,” for example, the famous case of Charles/Mary Hamilton. Hamilton’s case was not particularly unusual, but the attention given to it was. Hamilton was working as a quack doctor, who courted and married the daughter of his landlady. Two months later, the bride announced that her husband was a woman and a legal inquiry resulted, including depositions by both partners. Hamilton had begun living as male at age 14, and worked for a traveling mountebank, selling quack cures. Hamilton’s wife testified that they had penetrative intercourse several times, supporting her belief that Hamilton was a man, but later became doubtful. No other details of the sex are recorded.

The wife had not made a legal complaint. Rather, the prosecution was brought by the town council who wanted Hamilton punished by whipping. The charge – after much debate – was brought as vagrancy. (Other similar cases were more often brought as fraud.) Hamilton initially pled not guilty, but the punishment was carried out and later he later withdrew the plea. There is no further evidence of what happened to Hamilton, but the case itself grew legs in the popular media, especially after being fictionalized by author Henry Fielding in The Female Husband, the popular term for such situations, and in some cases how the people engaged in them viewed themselves.

Newspaper accounts use various techniques to silence the lesbian aspects of these relationships: ridicule, attribution of financial motives, emphasis on elements that undermine the image of commitment, such as serial or bigamous marriages, or depicting the marriage as intended as a joke. Even when legal charges are mentioned, the specifics are not always clear, but financial fraud is a common theme.

The Marriage Act of 1753 was meant to address irregular marriages in general, but doesn’t seem to have had a noticeable effect on the frequency or treatment of female husbands. The wives of female husbands sometimes brought complaints, sometimes simply spilled the beans, and sometimes entered into or continued the marriage well aware of their husband’s nature and content with the situation. In one such case, the attempt to bring charges failed, as the wife refused to cooperate, but Derry attributes the lack of punishment in that case to the female husband’s professed heterosexual backstory and willingness to return to living as a woman. Some prosecutions might appear to be straightforward fraud cases, such as Charles/Ann Marlow, who married three women in turn to obtain money and clothing from them. But a comparison of the penalty (being pilloried) to similar offenses places the concern more into the category of sexual offences.

How do public trials and punishments constitute “silencing?” Prior to the Reformation, sexual offenses were handled by ecclesiastical courts. But in that era, secular courts rarely directly initiated cases, except for major offenses. Rather, lawsuits were raised by those affected, and courts had a great deal of discretion. That same discretion meant that when a court did choose to pursue a case, it could shop around for an applicable law, as in the vacancy charge against Charles Hamilton.

The chapter now turns to what we can decipher about the subjects of these cases. They were in general living marginal, and often semi-criminal lives. Their motivations for marriage are doubtless varied, and even when explanations occur in the legal record, they are not trustworthy, due to the motivation for telling specific types of stories to win sympathy. The alleged financial motivation (fraud) rarely makes sense when balanced against the risk of exposure. The place of romantic/sexual desire is debated by historians. Other plausible motivations are simple companionship, social expectations (contributing to the presentation as a man in society), or the practical logistics of running a household.

The role of the wives is also considered. Apparently, they neither feared nor experienced negative consequences for their marriages, even when they were not the complainant. The most plausible explanation is that, in the absence of a law against “lesbian sex,” there was no crime they had committed. But this isn’t sufficient explanation. If marriage between two women was “fraud” then the wife was as guilty as the husband (if she knew her husband was female). Derry suggests that the absence of prosecution against the wives was to divert attention from the true offense (lesbianism) as the wife could be framed as keeping to a traditional role of “wife.” [Note: A more straightforward explanation might be that the true "crime" was a woman appropriating a male role, hence the wife committed no crime.]

By focusing prosecution on the disruption of approved social rules, the underlying sexual anxieties could be kept out of the public record and view.

In 19th-century cases, the developing stereotype of women as sexually passive enabled a defense of ignorance, even when it flew in the face of actual female experiences. Even a presumption of sexual innocence and ignorance was not an overwhelming defense for the wives, as public opinion could generate persecution, even when the law assigned no guilt. Even so, if a wife no longer desired to remain in the marriage, she had a straightforward means of dissolving it with little financial penalty. These complexities mean that the wives of female husbands were never entirely passive agents in how things played out.

When the law code prescribed harsh penalties, it was common for them to be mitigated by pardons. Further, penalties might be very specific to the offense, and judges had discretion about how to charge the offender. Most serious offenses were property crimes, and the legal concern with sex was largely restricted to penetration (rape and sodomy, using the narrow definition of anal intercourse). In contrast, a female husband’s offense was a challenge to male privilege. Thus when legal charges were brought, they focused on those elements, especially the “property crime” issue of fraud. Sexual intercourse came into it only as a means of supporting the fraud. The emotional aspects of sex could be excluded from the record.

Women living as men in 18th century England were rarely prosecuted. And given the legal and social constraints on women’s lives, there were many non-romantic motivations for gender disguise. The law restricted its concern to cases involving marriage.

What were the changes that led to this hostility to female husbands? Social hierarchies were being overturned by the Industrial Revolution, the rise of the mercantile class, the injection of colonial wealth, and anxieties sparked by the French Revolution. All of this became intertwined with anxieties about gender roles and “respectable” sexual conduct. The proportion of never-married women dipped in mid-century, and women trended to a younger age of first marriage, in part due to (men’s) expanded wage-earning potential. (In England, age at marriage related to the accumulation of enough money to establish a separate household.) Another factor was an increasing focus on PIV sex relative to other non-procreative sexual activities that previously had been widespread. Sex became viewed as an economic activity for the production of children, rather than being focused on pleasure. This narrowed definitions of sex to those aimed at conception.

All of this created a hostility to single women, who were increasingly viewed as sexually suspect, rather than as part of the continuum of options for women. In contrast to men, wage earning possibilities for women were narrowing and becoming less viable. This increasingly pressured unemployed single women into domestic service, attaching them to a patriarchal household.

One escape from these narrowed options for women was to become a man. Increasing mobility and urban job concentrations meant that a change of identity was more possible than in a less mobile society. All of these shifts, of course, simplify a complex picture. General hostility can be contrasted against individual examples of sympathy and support for female husbands. Press reports interleaved hostility with curiosity and even celebration, mitigated by an emphasis on how each case was “extraordinary.”

Toward the end of the 18th century, the press became increasingly close-mouthed about the salacious details of sexual offenses, advertising how their reports could not offend sensitive readers. (And thus depriving those readers of actionable suggestions.)

To the extent that sapphism was visible in the press, it was presented as a lower-class phenomenon (or, in contrast, an upper-class decadence) that threatened to “infect” the middle-class readership of the popular press. In contrast, close female friendships (non-sexual) were valorized for middle-class women, making it all the more important to establish clear lines between appropriate and inappropriate behavior.

Medical theories about gender and sex were also shifting in the 18th century. [Note: though, as many have noted, this shift was not absolute, and different models prevail in parallel during most eras, emphasized in different contexts. See Laqueur 1990 for a discussion of the shift from a “one sex” to “two sex” model that is under discussion here.]

A significant consequence of this shift was the rise of the idea that men and women were fundamentally different, enabling the rise of the model of the passive, passionless, sexually-indifferent woman as the ideal. It also gave ammunition to resistance to movements for women’s social and legal equality.

In parallel, a consequence of the focus on PIV sex and discouragement of non-procreative erotic activity was a rising concern with masturbation. For women, this included concern that clitoral-focused pleasure (only officially recognized in the preceding couple of centuries) was inherently detrimental to health. The specter of sexual activity using (or causing) a large clitoris became an underpinning to horror of lesbianism. But in parallel with this came a rise of the idea of same-sex desire as a social phenomenon, rather than a physiological one. Hence the fading traces of concern in the case of female husbands that there was a physical cause for their behavior.

Finally, changes in the practice of justice came to bear on the question. The combination of victim-driven rather than state-driven prosecutions, combined with significant judicial discretion, meant that 18th century, female husband prosecutions could be idiosyncratic. But across the century this began to change, with civic concerns beginning to drive prosecutions and trials becoming more professionalized, especially in terms of the participation of defense counsel and standardized procedures. Punishments, too, were becoming more formalized, and shifting away from community-driven penalties, such as the pillory. These shifts contributed to the ability of the courts to enforce silencing of the topic of lesbianism.

The question remains: if lesbianism itself was not illegal, why were female husbands punished? One element is that, regardless of the actual (absence of) statutes, the public viewed lesbianism as criminal behavior, as illustrated by many references in literature using that word. (More overt references to lesbians in 17th and 18th century literature largely occur in male-focused pornography.) To some extent, it is only in comparison to punishments for male sodomy that the punishments for female husbands seem light. Sentences of whipping, imprisonment, and pillorying were among the harshest available for non-capital crimes and often harsher than the typical ones for fraud and vagrancy.

The elements typically involved are cross-dressing and the presence of sexual activity, with the usurpation of male identity being key. But this conflicts somewhat with the lack of similar responses to female cross-dressing when marriage was not involved. [Note: Derry doesn't focus on it here, but there is also an absence of legal involvement when sex, but not cross-dressing, is present. This is touched on in the following chapters.] Derry argues that the essential factor in bringing the force of law is: women living together, separate from any male presence. They were not simply taking economic advantage of male identity and establishing emotional relationships with women, but were doing so with a rejection of any type of male oversight or authority. They dared to be self-sufficient and independent.

The chapter has a final note about dildos. An essential element of how female husband cases were presented to the public was in discounting and denying any meaningfulness of the marriages. They were fraud. They were shams. They were jokes. They had no basis for being successful as no penis was involved. When the existence of a dildo is invoked in the records, it is talked around. It is considered unmentionable, unnameable. It is considered a tool for fraud, not for pleasure. The dildo is “not fit to be mentioned.” By the mid 18th century, the dildo was no longer treated as a toy used by sexually frustrated women, but rather as a symbol of masculine desire in women. Even the (silenced) focus on the function of a dildo in these marriages erases the possibility of non-phallic pleasures.

In summary, the key elements of female husbands that drew legal attention was not cross-dressing alone, not emotional bond between women alone, not even sexual activity between women alone, but the combination – which created the image of female independence and autonomy from male authority. They dared to make men irrelevant. It was that possibility that required suppression and silencing.

Contents summary: 

The central premise of this chapter Is to examine how the law came to acknowledge the existence of sexual “indecent assault” by one woman against another. But the case used to illustrate this concerns a midwife who was hired to examine the virginity of an underage girl being procured for prostitution. The case had a number of complicating factors. The men doing the procuring were anti-prostitution activists and journalists, working to demonstrate how easy it was to obtain such victims. One focus of such campaigns was to raise the female age of consent from 13 to 16. And the nonconsensual examination falls more rationally in the realm of medical practice than sexual activity.

The use of this case study is in support of the motif of “silencing”. Even in the context of female-on-female assault, the legal language declines to specify what might constitute “indecent” actions between women.

The social context includes a shift from viewing sex crimes against women as a property crime against a male patriarch to a moral crime against female innocence. “Innocence” was conditional. Prior to 1880, there was no fixed age of consent for women and the assertion of consent – even for a child of six – was defense against sexual charges. (That was the year when the age of consent was established as 13.) In theory, the Mourey case established that this age of consent also applied to acts between female persons.

Female husbands did not disappear in the 19th century, but became less of a legal concern. The most significant legal case involving lesbianism in the early part of the century was the libel claim in which to school teachers (Pirie and Woods) sued the guardian of one of their pupils for spreading the rumor that they were having sex, resulting in the failure of their school. In secret legal hearings, the strategy was formed of attributing even the idea that women could engage in lesbian sex to the debased imagination of the student – a mixed race Anglo-Indian girl – and to a servant at the school. Thus reinforcing the idea that respectable women would not even be aware of such things but foreigners and the lower classes might. The court records explicitly note that admitting the possibility of lesbianism between white middle-class women would destroy the foundations of society, which relied on confidence in “the purity of female manners” given the free access women had to each other.

While the suspicion of lesbianism might persist for working class women, it was so thoroughly excluded from the scrutiny of the law that female husbands were no longer subjected to even tangential charges. When Bill/Mary Chapman was found to be female, when acquitted of an assault charge involving his common-law wife, Isabella Watson, the judge noted of the domestic situation “I know of no law to punish her.” There was no longer a legal context for turning public disapproval into official action.

When Harriet Stokes wanted to leave her abusive husband, Henry, she mentioned that some time ago she had discovered that Henry was a woman, but though this aided in getting a satisfactory separation, the authorities recorded that “no legal procedures have been, or indeed could be, taken.” When John Smith/Sophia Locke was revealed after death to have been female, his female partner acknowledged awareness and asserted the arrangement was economic, which was seized on by the press, who proclaimed there could be no motive other than abetting the disguise.

The preceding cases are from the 1830s, and no subsequent female husband cases have been identified. Female husbands might be mentioned in criminal records, but only in the context of unrelated offenses, such as domestic violence or employment-related crimes. The difference is that while the cross-dressing and domestic arrangements might be noted as background in the trial, there is no suggestion that they are criminal in and of themselves.

There is a discussion of the changing stereotypes regarding women’s roles, and how the official image of the “domestic married woman” conflicted with reality. In 1851 it is estimated that half of British women were not married, that a quarter would never marry, and that a quarter of married women were employed outside the home. At the end of the century, it’s estimated that one third of women were employed outside of the home, although this included domestic servants.

The minority of women fit the image used to argue for women’s inherent domesticity and inability. That illusion also included the assertion of women’s sexual passivity and ignorance. But passivity and ignorance were enforced by patriarchal society. One emerging means was by medicalizing women’s sexual agency via psychiatric diagnosis and “treatment” including the extreme approach of clitoridectomy for women engaging in masturbation or lesbianism, fortunately a relatively short-lived treatment. Within this medicalization, lesbianism was not defined or identified specifically, but was lumped in with any type of sexual urge or activity that did not center men’s desires, as well as other behaviors that showed resistance to approved feminine behavior.

The chapter briefly notes the continuing professionalization and standardization of criminal trials, as well as examples of the sexual double standard that excused men’s behavior as “natural” while stigmatizing women’s as “criminal.”

Contents summary: 

In 1921, Parliament debated, but did not pass, a bill that would have criminalized “gross indecency between female persons” as part of a general male reaction to the new freedoms and social power women were obtaining. There was a belief that if women engaged in lesbianism, they would never again be interested in men. Unlike in previous discussions, lesbianism was named and discussed explicitly, though the proposed law still danced around it, using the general term “indecency.” This clause was added to a bill that would have closed some loopholes around sexual crimes, and Derry asserts that adding lesbianism was meant as a deliberate poison pill to derail the original. Arguments against the lesbianism clause included the idea that enshrining it explicitly would give women ideas, via the ensuing press coverage of trials. (The original bill was raised again and passed in the next session, but without the lesbianism clause.)

The chapter discusses reasons why lesbianism was chosen as a poison pill, as well as why it was proposed seriously. There were suggestions that women were luring girls into their houses for sexual exploitation. A rising familiarity with sexology, and its concern with lesbianism, was also prevalent though this is rarely referenced in the parliamentary debate. The clause was presented as creating gender-neutral laws regarding sex crimes. Feminist groups that in general supported the revisions to sex crime legislation were often vulnerable to suspicion of lesbianism, with many unmarried and sharing their lives with female companions.

Lesbianism was becoming a more visible theme in popular consciousness. During World War I, women as well as men were identified as blackmail risks due to homosexuality. Dancer Maud Allan, appearing in a private performance of Oscar Wilde’s Salome, faced charges of lesbianism that she met with a libel case, with a key argument being that Allan’s familiarity with the word “clitoris” was proof of her lesbianism. Lesbianism was a suggested to be a symptom of a general national degeneracy. These arguments were entangled with historical theories about the decline of classical civilizations, and the concerns of the new eugenics movement (though some eugenics proponents argued that lesbianism was harmless as it was self-limiting in reproductive terms).

The following are my somewhat less coherent notes about the content of the chapter.

Arguments against increasing the penalties for homosexual behavior included that anti-homosexuality laws created the opportunity for blackmail. The medicalization of sexuality was at that time viewed as progressive rather than homophobic. There was an increasing reaction against legislating morality generally. More specifically, conservative views weren’t ready to embrace the equivalence of male and female sexuality that anti-lesbian laws presumed.

There is a discussion of sexological theory and differences between continental versus English attitudes towards lesbianism. The medicalization of homosexuality occurred earlier for women than for men. The feminist movement of “new women” was challenged as causing/reflecting women’s moral and physical weakness.

What did parliament think they were addressing in terms of lesbian sexual acts? The details don’t appear in the speeches, but some hints show up in private correspondence. One letter refers to legislating against “the sale of any implements required” (which may presumably be understood as dildos). While both “gross indecency” and “buggery” were addressed separately for men with different penalties, there was no conception of non-penetrative “indecency” between women – or at least that fell within the topics that Parliament considered unspeakable. Discussions indicated a discomfort about criminalizing romantic female friendships. “Female inverts” were imagined as always “masculine” and socially nonconforming.

The 1921 debates existed within a wider anxiety around gender roles, particularly among elite men. Women were entering previously exclusively-male fields, such as police, parliament, and law. There is a discussion of changes in the social make-up and visibility of class and race. Feminists were not unified in their attitude towards lesbianism. Some grounded their philosophy in the idea of “separate spheres” seeing lesbians as unfeminine, while others embraced a rejection of marriage and motherhood that was more supportive of lesbianism.

Women were only beginning to be able to vote and stand for parliament. (There was only one female member of parliament in 1921.) Women were beginning to enter legal professions, and be able to serve as justices and jurors. All this meant that female voices did not contribute directly to the 1921 debates and lesbianism was still framed as a topic whose discussion was restricted to men.

Contents summary: 

By the 1920s, certain sexual offenses between women were criminalized, but not the generic “gross indecency”. “Female husband” disappeared from the record with respect to sexual offenses, but the case of Victor/Valerie Barker signals a new direction of medicalized approaches, combined with anxiety over single women in the wake of World War I and the glimmerings of visibility brought by the obscenity lawsuit over The Well of Loneliness. This was a short-lived visibility ended by a rejection of sexological arguments for acceptance.

After two relationships with men, Valerie Barker left her second, violent partner to live as a man, explaining her motivations later as work-related and for personal safety. She began a relationship with Elfrida Haward, who had been a friend before Barker’s transition. Haward’s parents pressured them to marry and the couple’s stories later diverged, with Haward claiming it was a “normal marriage” and Barker alleging it was a platonic friendship. They separated later, and Barker became the subject of rumors about his sex, as well as being involved in various encounters with the law. In the course of a prison medical exam, Barker’s physical sex was identified, which then led to two charges of perjury relating to how Barker identified himself in legal records. [Note: Compare the “perjury” charge with previous “fraud” approaches for female husbands.]

With respect to the marriage, the prosecutor focused on the fact that it had been performed in church rather than a registry office. [Note: Compare to the charge of “profaning the sacrament” in the case of Anne/Jean-Baptiste Grandjean where the question of sex in the relationship was not brought up.] The judge, who had favored the proposed “female gross indecency” statute, brought the question of sex acts into the case, despite there being no legal context. He created court procedures that prevented Barker’s testimony from being available to the public.

English legal discourse was not significantly influenced by sexology. Legal discourse supported historic views of “female husbands” unproblematically as women, whereas sexology leaned more towards a concept blending lesbianism and trans identities. Sexology promoted a “born this way” view that argued against criminality. That didn’t mean it supported positive acceptance. Sexology had a strong streak of eugenics, which framed appropriate sexual behavior as crucial to the health of the state.

The effects of World War I, the influenza epidemic, and a pre-existing decline in birth-rate sparked concerns about any condition that turned women away from motherhood. This intersection meant that sexological writings by e.g., Havelock Ellis put a focus on the conjunction of lesbianism and criminality, with both aspects of being ascribed to inherent “masculinity,” especially as reflected in physiology.

Women’s social independence (from men) was viewed as inherently leading toward criminality. All of this concern focused only on women seen as “butch”. Sexology viewed butch and femme as entirely separate categories with femme lesbians capable of being “reformed.” [Note that the position that lesbianism and criminality had similar features and causes is different from assigning criminality to the state of being a lesbian, although this may be a rather subtle difference.]

Just as lesbianism was linked to feminism, it could also be linked to other movements considered antisocial, such as miscegenation.

There is a discussion of the broader social impact of sexological theories. Sexology did not have equivalent consequences for men and women. In general, it argued for greater acceptance of male homosexuals while essentially inventing homophobia against female ones.

The publicity around the obscenity trial of Radclyffe Hall’s The Well of Loneliness also helped spread awareness of lesbianism in a specific version (i.e., upper-class “mannish” presentation).

One significant difference between previous female husband cases and some of the prominent cases of lesbianism that intersected with the law in the 1920s is that of class. Female husbands were, in general, working class, while the new generation of “inverts” came from the middle and upper class.

Cases of working class cross-dressing can still be found in legal records of the 1920s, but the cross-dressing is not connected to the offense. When there was no suspicion of lesbianism in the case, judges were willing to state categorically that cross-dressing was not illegal. Even when the popular press framed someone as a female husband, the law carefully avoided bringing that into the public record, with charges typically being the nebulous “breach of the peace.”

With the secularization of marriage, the technical offense that could be brought for a female husband shifted from “fraud” to “perjury.” The “wife” continues to be left out of the legal equation. [Note: successful gender masquerade continues to be quite possible, with failure tending to come from unusual circumstances or personal stupidity.]

Despite the flurry of lesbian visibility in the 1920s, it sank back into official silence, especially among the working class, for several decades.

Contents summary: 

[Note: it is actually rather hard to do a very condensed overview of these chapters that are of less interest to the Project. I’m trying to get much more high-level for these last few chapters.]

A 1957 committee considered potential changes to the legal treatment of “vices”. One goal of the changes was to keep activities in this category, such as prostitution and homosexuality, out of public view. Even decriminalization was not intended for the benefit of the accused, but to suppress knowledge of the activities.

This process included a shift from addressing “homosexual acts” to concerning itself with homosexual people, though only the former were criminalized, and “homosexual” was tacitly understood as referring only to men. Lesbians, when considered, were treated as analogues to gay men, but with the awareness that lesbian acts were not illegal as such. Even though lesbianism was discussed by the committee, it was deliberately excluded from the conclusions. Even the offense of “indecent assault by a female on a female,” though included in detailed lists of offenses, was omitted from summaries of the resulting laws. The report itself claimed that no case of such an act had been found.

At the same time, girls—far more often than boys—might be detained in institutions for “moral danger,” under which umbrella lesbianism could be silently categorized. The lack of laws against lesbianism, as such, did not mean that women were not prosecuted for being perceived as lesbians.

In general, the tide was shifting to a view that people’s private lives were not the law’s concert. But not all people or activities were considered to fall within the category of “private” for this purpose. Certain sexual activities were still considered to have public consequences and be a public concern (e.g., the category of “moral danger”). To the extent that this shift began decriminalizing sex between men, its purpose was to impose the same silencing and hiding from public awareness that had long been applied to lesbianism. To the extent lesbianism was brought up in deliberations, it was to note the injustice of prosecuting homosexual conduct only for men and not women. The hazard of this line of argument was a growing discussion of penalizing lesbianism, rather than removing penalties from male homosexuality. But the details of these discussions and arguments were largely omitted from the final report. There is a continuing thread in the evidence that lesbianism was not considered of concern because it was functionally invisible. Prior suppression of the visibility and awareness of lesbianism now meant that those debating the laws had little data on which to base arguments.

[Note: we are now moving on into the 40s and 50s.]

Medical models of homosexuality were shifting from a “congenital invert” model to a Freudian psychological one. A psychological approach lead to greater interest in medical “treatments.” [Note: A medical approach did not mean a beneveolent one. Keep in mind that medical “treatment” in this era included lobotomy and chemical castration.]

Situational lesbianism, e.g., during wartime organizations, was a concern, but excused as long as the “right type of women” were involved and their relationships weren’t seen as preventing a return to heterosexuality. Female, military branches needed to address lesbianism because, although not illegal, it was against military discipline. At the same time, there was pressure, not to officially recognize lesbianism as a visible concern. Silence was considered a useful preventive measure—the old “don’t give them ideas” approach. Such practices as sharing beds and displays of physical affection could be dismissed as “normal working-class customs” among women.

In the postwar period, some new archetypes of lesbianism arose. One was the image of lesbians as “marriage breakers,” although hard evidence of prevalence of this phenomenon was scarce. Divorce courts were eager to accept that even same-sex relationships that caused marital discord could be framed as “friendships.” Another archetype was the violent “unnatural friendship” in which “morbid affections” and jealousies led to violence and criminality. Though lesbianism couldn’t be the core of the prosecution, it might be considered as a contributing cause and aggravating factor that led to enhanced penalties.

By the 60s, social visibility was increasingly hard to suppress. The reforms of the 1967 “Sexual Offenses Act”, though superficially more tolerant, actually resulted in increased prosecution. But male and female homosexuals were beginning to make common clause, alongside second wave feminism, and this resulted in the law beginning to address male and female homosexuality in parallel, but often to the detriment of lesbians.

Contents summary: 

Chapter 7- Allen: Sexual Offences Prosecutions in the Late Twentieth Century

[Note: I think I’m succeeding in a briefer, high-level summary for the remaining chapters. These notes may be more random and unconnected.]

The Sexual Offenses Act of 2003 attempted to remove gender differences in laws for sexual offenses, but heteronormative assumptions still resulted in inequalities. In cases, such as “assault by penetration” the Act encouraged prosecutions for activities not previously “visible” to the law, by stipulating for example the inclusion of non-penile penetration in definitions of sexual assault.

An increase in prosecutions for sexual assault by women on women was largely on the basis of age of consent. Although lesbians participated in social activism, their concerns often fell through the cracks between feminism (which focused on heterosexual concerns) and gay liberation (which focused on men). Lesbians were included in the backlash against gay activism without being included in its concerns. Lesbian concerns were more visible in conflicts under family law, including divorce and child custody. Note that even what genuine legal reforms and legal equality for lesbians were achieved, happened only in the 21st-century.

There is a discussion of new social models for lesbianism, including the overlap and ambiguity with trans identities.

Chaper 8 – McNally: After the Sexual Offences Act 2003

This chapter largely presents individual case studies from the 21st-century and suggests future approaches for further legal reform.

Chapter 9 – Conclusion

Derry summarizes the motif of “silencing” and the concern of preventing lesbianism by keeping it out of women’s awareness. Who was the silencing meant to “protect” and who was left outside those defenses?

historical