French theatre legend Sarah Bernhardt played 20 male roles between 1869 and 1920 (out of a total of 70), the most famous being Hamlet, L'Aiglon and Lorenzaccio. Cross-dressing was a common feature of dramatic and lyrical theatre in the 19^th century.

At the turn of the century, the Parisian art world went wild for the cross-dressing craze. Genuine enthusiasts of the male costume, such as Marc de Montifaud, frequented opportunists like Rachilde and gender benders such as Colette…

They gained a scandalous reputation. Even in the Montmartre bohemia where a subculture hostile to bourgeois values developed between 1880 and 1910, they were slandered and described as “hermaphrodites”, virilised, like “Monsieur” Sarah Bernhardt, a “good” and “singular boy”.

Sarah Bernhardt, the model of a star with an ambiguous gender

Sarah Bernhardt (1844-1923), a French theatre legend and the first woman to teach declamation at the Conservatoire d'art dramatique, was a symbol of female emancipation during the Belle Epoque.

Her first role was in drag (Les Enfants d'Edouard by Casimir Delavigne), and her first triumph also came in 1869 (Le Passant by François Coppée). The actress claimed to have preferred Hamlet to Ophelia and loved the complexity of men’s brains. She also played the most famous cross-dresser in history (Le Procès de Jeanne d'Arc, by Emile Moreau and Jeanne d'Arc by Jules Barbier). She triumphed in L'Aiglon in 1900 in the role of the young Duke of Reischtadt at the age of 56...

Her slim figure, which did not conform to the canons of her time, helped her to succeed in these performances as an actress. Her style of dress off stage was very personal. She created a slender silhouette, with a fitted bodice, a hobbled skirt that widened into a train across the floor, long gloves and high collars. Luxurious clothes with precious jewels created her star image.

In a photograph by Poirel conserved at the BNF, Sarah Bernhardt, still young, dons a costume that caused a scandal. It was a “sarahbernhardtesque” invention (as her friend Reynaldo Hahn called it). She posed in her studio on Boulevard de Clichy wearing a white canvas jacket and trousers, feminised by a tulle collar, a ruffle, lace cuffs and Louis XV shoes. Rumour had it in English high society that she was willing to appear dressed as a man for a shilling.

Was this just the eccentricity of a star? Probably not. Like many of her contemporaries, she was attracted to cross-dressing. Through her homosexual friends, and above all through her affairs with women, she sought out this code that allowed her to express her difference. One of her close friends was Louise Abbéma (1853-1926), a painter, who depicted both of them sailing together on the lake in the Bois de Boulogne, Louise Abbéma standing in a dust jacket and male waistcoat.

Cross-dressers in the world of humanities

The male costume: revelatory of difficult living conditions

The adoption of men’s clothing and the frequent use of male pseudonyms reveal the extreme difficulty, well analysed by Christine Planté, of women’s access to literary activity. Why this masculinisation? It may express a virile tendency, but above all, it is socially advantageous if it avoids prejudice. This solution was not ideal. The times were unkind to the increasing number of “women authors” and “women painters”.

For financial reasons, some female writers faced with the virtual impossibility of existing as women in the literary world adopted male attire. The most famous of them, George Sand, describes in Histoire de ma vie, her ecstasy when she was finally able to discover Paris free of dresses that drag on the ground and dainty shoes, fit to be thrown away after two days of walking. Her family did not prevent her from dressing as a young man. Her mother had done the same at her age, enabling her to halve her expenses.

Marc de Montifaud

Marc de Montifaud (1850-1912), born Marie Amélie Chartroule in Paris, first worked in a glass factory, pretending to be a man, and kept up the habit of wearing trousers. A feminist (editor of La Fronde), she wrote daring “illustrated romances of passion” for Offenstadt. Marguerite Durand’s blue eyes and blond hair inspired her poems. But Marc de Montifaud was married, had a family, and appealed to men who found her, like Jean-Joseph-Renaud (in an 1899 article), “so womanly and exquisite under the tailcoat worn perpetually”. Was she worried by the authorities? In 1882, the press reported that her habits were being “threatened” by the Police Prefecture which warned that women who contravened the 1800 regulation would be referred to the police court.

Rachilde

A poor, independent young girl, Rachilde (born Marguerite Emery, 1860-1953), the future “sacred monster” of the publishing house, Mercure de France, received a taste of the freedom of movement and morals afforded by crossdressing. She played it cleverly, exploiting the scandal for publicity purposes. She also used them in her plays, which were particularly daring (among many others, Monsieur Vénus, in 1889, a clever play on the dissociation of sex and gender). In the end, her sulphurous reputation did her no harm. She steered clear of the militant commitments of the time, and took the trouble, when she was old enough, to publish an autobiographical essay, Pourquoi je ne suis pas féministe (1928) (Why I am not a feminist).

Colette

Colette (1873-1954), another scandalous woman of the Belle Epoque, posed for any occasion. Her mentor, Willy, portrayed her in Claudine, a slightly androgynous child-woman. Colette then became involved with the Marquise de Belbeuf (Mathilde de Morny).

This photograph dates from the time of their affair, in March 1910. “She had a man’s ease, excellent manners, sobriety of gesture, a virile balance of body”. Colette, on the other hand, playfully commented: “They didn’t fool me for long, those photographic images of me wearing a straight collar, a regatta, a little jacket over a flat skirt, a cigarette smoking between two fingers”. Dressing like a man was a source of discrimination for a woman. Mathilde de Morny couldn’t buy a house in her own name.

Scandal at the Moulin Rouge

Mathilde de Morny (1861-1944) dressed like a man, enjoying the privileges of her parentage (she was the daughter of the Duc de Morny) and the contract of mutual freedom she signed with her husband, the Marquis de Belbeuf, one of the richest men in France, from whom she separated at the age of 24. She lived as she pleased, cutting her hair and being dressed by London tailors. Her servants called her “Monsieur le Marquis”, her young female friends “Uncle Max” and her intimates “Missy”. She collected female conquests and frequented the great courtesans: Eve Lavallière, Cléo de Mérode, Liane de Pougy and the Belle Otéro.

Her affair with Colette caused a scandal. Not only was it not hidden, but in 1907 it was staged in a pantomime, Rêve d'Egypte, at the Moulin-Rouge, in which the Marquise, disguised as an archaeologist, brought Colette/the mummy back to life with a kiss. No sooner than the following day, had the Prefect Lépine banned any further performances and the press revelled in the scandal of “Parisian depravity”.

Max’s story can be reconsidered today. Their experiences, perceived at the time as those of a homosexual woman, are closer to those of a contemporary transgender person. In fact, Max even underwent surgery (mastectomy and hysterectomy).

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