Private Revelations

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[The following is transcribed from a collection of papers recently found in a cardboard box in the attic of an old house in rural Vermont that was once a parsonage. It is clearly an address intended to be delivered to a group known as the Sisters of Heaven and Earth, and presumably it was in fact delivered. I know of no other reference to such a group despite a diligent search. It may have been simply a local gathering of like-minded women. In any case, I print this document as found, with the following exception: I have modernized the spelling and made the use of tenses and quotation and other punctuation marks consistent throughout.]



Paper for meeting of 14 April 1873:



My dear Sisters of Heaven and Earth, Eleanora at our meeting last week said we should all write down a brief account of the most memorable moment in our lives and bring them to read. I had planned to bring a story about the first time I met my husband. But that would have been false.



It is another moment, one which I have never yet shared with anyone, which was the most memorable, and I now make it a gift to you, my chosen sisters. I do this in respect for our motto, "Truth Before All. " I also do this in respect for the private and sometimes painful revelations which several of you have shared at our meetings and which we all have vowed to keep secret in our hearts forever. And most of all I do it for the love we show each other during that very special time that ends our meetings, the Chaste Mutual Caresses.



Eight years ago, Caleb, my intended, had been to the war with the 33rd Maine Infantry as a private soldier and fought in Maryland and Virginia. At Chancellorsville he took a Rebel bullet or ball of some sort in the left thigh and was removed to Washington. By the grace of God and the efforts of our excellent physicians at the 17th Street Medical Institute and Hospital, he did not lose his leg, although he was told that walking would always be somewhat difficult and his wound would most likely pain him for some time to come.



When I read of this in his letter, I immediately sent him an absolute assurance of my unwavering affection despite his injury. In reply, he informed me to expect him home soon and promised he would visit me shortly thereafter, on the day before my birthday in the afternoon.



What a present I thought it would be to see his face! But it transpired differently. On about 3:00 p.m. that day, I was dusting nervously in the parlor, trying to calm myself, when Ruth, my sister of blood who was visiting from Portland, came in and asked me to sit down for a conversation. She sat beside me on the sofa and took my hand.



"You know," she said, "that I want truly want what is the very best for you. You know that, don't you?"



I assured her that I did, though I began to feel concerned.



"I knew nothing of men before I married Edward," she went on. "But now I certainly do. I know that men not only provide a livelihood but also give us both a family and pleasure. That is the reason for marriage."



"I know that," I said, though I confess I knew very little of the specific details.



"Then, my dearest," she said, "listen to a warning given you in all love and concern. I believe you are somewhat promised to Caleb. But he may not be the man to give you those things."



"Oh, he most certainly is! I have almost promised him!" I protested.



She touched my cheek and hushed me.



"You said 'almost.' And you must be very careful to go no further than that for now.



"Why?!" I asked, pulling away from her.



"Let me explain," she said. "Think of his injury."

 "Yes?"



" A bullet received at the level of the hip?"



I said I didn't understand, though I feared something ominous.



"We don't know if there was ... some other injury. Perhaps he wouldn't have said."



"Some other?"



"You remember when years ago we changed little David and little Abe's swaddling? Their male organ ... and the little sack?"



"Yes, of course," I said.



" Men have those things, too. They're different, larger ... but the same."



"And you think ...!"



"We don't know, but what if he has lost his male organ, or the sack, which is essential because it holds the seed? Or has received some internal injury that keeps his organ from standing up? Edward has a cousin in Delaware who, it is said in the family, received just such an injury."



"Is it supposed to stand up?" I asked.



"Yes," she said, "it must or ... nothing can happen."



There was a knock on the door, and when I opened it, Caleb stood before me, leaning on a smart silver-tipped cane. He looked at me with an anxious smile. I tried to embrace him, but it was awkward because of the cane.



I brought him into the parlor, where he settled himself on the sofa while Ruth went for tea. I said he looked the same as when he left, and then I knew I had said the wrong thing because that sweet face grew instantly dark.



The rest of the afternoon I was as solicitous as possible and laughed at his every attempt at wit. He stayed for dinner, his parents arriving at about 6:00 and also dining with us.



As we ate, he told us of his plans. He was thankful his father was well-to-do, so he would not suffer financially from being limited in mobility. His father had invited him to go into the cotton trade with him like his brother, or if he preferred, to live the life of a gentleman and do no more than help manage the family's finances. But Caleb then told us, as he had told his father earlier, that he wanted to be active, and they had agreed that he would respond to a calling he felt to the Gospel ministry. He had seen so much evil and violence that he felt compelled to speak against it in all its forms.



During the next month, I saw him at least every second or third day. He seemed anxious and dejected, but I could not induce him to speak of what he had experienced with his comrades, other than to say how very many of them were now dead.



Was that the full reason for his anxiety, or was there something more, I wondered. Had he guessed the thoughts that Ruth had planted in my mind? Then one day as we sat on our front porch, he asked me the question that I knew was coming—if I would consider being his wife. I said I would pray about it and let him know in a week.



I told Ruth of his proposal and asked for her advice.



"You must find out if he can do his husbandly duty in the bedroom," she said, "if you plan to give your answer in the affirmative."



 "But how? Should I just ask him?"



"He may or may not tell you the whole truth," Ruth said. "Edward's cousin did not at first own up to his condition, though it is possible he didn't realize the extent of his disability until later."



I assured her Caleb would never lie, but she insisted that even Caleb himself might not know the truth if things were outwardly intact but injured internally. Her last words to me were, "I think you must be prepared to hurt him if you are to save yourself. He is a well-to-do and attractive man, and he will find someone else."



I confess her words left me greatly distraught. Hurt him or sacrifice forever my having children? The pleasure part she had spoken of—that I thought I could do without, for Caleb's sake, if it became necessary. To have him as my husband would be pleasure enough. But no children? I couldn't bear it.



I was obsessed with what Ruth had said, and I took every opportunity during that week to examine, as best I could without (heaven forbid!) Caleb's noticing, the area of his trousers around his groin for signs of his organ and sack. Once or twice I thought I detected a curious movement in that area, but it may have been my imagination. I could be certain of nothing. In truth, I had little idea of the size or exact shape of what I was looking for in those unruly folds of flannel.



I had decided on my course when the day came to give my answer. He asked to come to the house after supper, but when he arrived, I suggested we go down by the creek to a place I knew to be totally secluded. He readily agreed, and we slowly made our way through the woods to the grassy bank. When we arrived, I helped him settle himself with a minimum of discomfort from his injury.



He said a word of prayer asking for God's guidance, fidgeted a moment with some spears of grass and then said, "My love, what is your answer?"



"It's not quite that simple," I said.



And then I told him of Ruth's concern.



"I'm fine!" he said. "I'm as much a man ...!"



Then he abruptly looked away, across the creek.



After a silence, he turned and said, "But you can't know that for certain, can you?"



"I couldn't live without children."



"You wouldn't have to!" he blurted out as he turned to face me. But then his lips compressed and he looked down.



After some seconds he said, "I understand. You have to be certain that I can .... But of course you can't be. I guess there's no more to say, is there? If that's the way it must be, the Lord will help me bear this heavy burden."



His lips were trembling and his eyes moistened as he spoke. I wonder now that he had been able to speak those awful words.



"Wait," I said, and placed my fingers over his quivering mouth. "Do you love me enough to forgive me if I ask you to do something?" I was using the exact words I had carefully worked out in my mind days before. Now they sounded in my ear odd and forced, but I didn't know what else to say.



"To do what?" he asked.



Lie back on the grass," I said. Gathering up my courage, I added, "And undo your trousers."



His mouth quite literally opened in amazement.



Softly he said, "What?"



"I will love you and be your wife and helpmeet as you serve the Lord, if you do this for me. I have to see for myself."



"See? I wish you could just believe me!" he said.



"I do. But I must .... Oh, Caleb. I am afraid that now you don't want me. You think I'm not a decent woman to ask such a thing."



"Nonsense. Oh, I want you so much, Rebeccah! But to let you ... look at me ... at my private ... member. If we were married .... But we're not! And so we won't ever be married, will we?"



"You do think I'm asking something sinful," I said. "Then I need not give an answer to your proposal, since despite what you say, you are no doubt disgusted with me and feel I'm not fit for you."



I started to stand.



He pulled me back down and I knew I had won. I said softly to him, "God will forgive you."



Still reclining on the grass, he undid his suspenders and wriggled his trousers down to just above his knees. The great balloon of his shirttail was a mass of white wrinkles covering his male area.



With my head almost swimming with the unreality of it all, I said, "Caleb, lift your shirt."



His fingers shook as he slowly gathered the white cloth to a bunch at his chest.



Ruth and I had of course some years before experienced the growth of some hair in our groin area, but ours was soft and not very extensive. I thought he might have the same. I could hardly believe how abundant and widespread was the thick, dark, and coarse growth that Caleb had between his legs. It ran heavily up his belly and narrowed as it disappeared under the billows of white material.



In the thickest part of the dark mass, at the extremity of his belly, there was a small purplish mushroom-like part that was in fact ... the size of a small mushroom! It was not at all like the tiny dangling things that I had once seen on little David and Abe when I changed them years before. I did, however, recognize Caleb's sack as similar to theirs, though it was considerably larger.



"There, Rebeccah. ... You see? ... It's all there."



He let out a heavy breath and started to drop his shirt to cover himself, but I put my hand out and stopped him.



"Ruth said that there was something else."



"What?" he said with a nervous laugh. "There's not supposed to be anything else. She's a married woman. She knows that."



"No," I said. "I mean ... she said it must stand upright."



"It will, I promise you," he said.



"She said for me to make sure."



I confess I was in a sense not telling the absolute truth, but I thought it was what she would have advised me had she known I was going to get this far.



"Make sure?" he said. "Oh, Rebeccah, it does stand up! But I can't ... prove it."



"What makes it happen?"



"It just does. Sometimes at night, if I dream ... certain things ... it just does."



"It's almost night," I said.



"That doesn't matter," he said with another nervous laugh. Then the smile left him.



"How can you not believe me?" he said.



He slowly began to lower his shirttail again.



There was a rustle in the brush behind us. Ruth appeared, as if she were an angel determined to keep us together.



Caleb struggled to pull up his trousers and fasten them while stuffing them with his ballooning shirttail.



"Wait," Ruth said.



"Have you been hiding there all the time?" he asked, clutching his half-buttoned trousers.



"Most of it, but it's all right, Caleb. I promise you I didn't see anything. I could only hear. I just want to tell you—you've got to show her. Use your hand."



"Use my hand?"



"Don't pretend you don't know about that," she replied. "All boys do it."



"What do you mean? I don't ...."



"You're lying, Caleb. And that's not a good sign, Rebeccah. I suspect that means he knows he can't do his husbandly duty—and Rebeccah, you would be very foolish to marry him if he can't."



"But I can! Rebeccah?" he implored, looking at me.



I said nothing, but he knew what my answer would be.



"You want me to do it ... in front of you both!?" he pleaded.



"No, of course not. I'll go," said Ruth.



"I'm so sorry. I just can't," he said, resuming the tucking in of his shirttail.



"Then let Rebeccah do it for you," said Ruth. "I've done it for Edward."



"Me do it?" I asked. "You mean ...?"



But she was already gone.



"I love you, Caleb. Please. Do it for me. For us both."

 "I just couldn't, Rebeccah, any more than I could do such a thing in front of my dear mother."



"Then I'll do it for you myself," I said.



"That would be a double a sin for me," he said, "because I don't want you to do it, but ... I want you to as well."



"Please let me. ... Please."



He sighed heavily and raised his shirt. What I saw surprised me. The smallish mushroom seemed now as if it had gotten thicker and was sticking out a little more than before.



I had no idea how to go about it, but I touched the mushroom head with my forefinger. It was velvety but also rather firm. I ran my finger along the curving edge of it and then decided to let my finger and thumb play with the small folds of skin gathered there, where the base met the head.



Then I had a second surprise. Between my very fingers, what had been a tame creature rose up and swelled into an angry violet-faced, one-eyed dragon with its neck and head curving slightly backward.



Did all men grow these large appendages at times? Did my brothers, did Mr. Plumb, Daddy's law partner, did Mr. Roberts and Billy Brown in the choir, did even the preacher himself produce such a large, awkward thing in the dark, even though they hid it away in a conveniently small form all day long?



As I stared at the purple head of Caleb's secret organ, a small amount of fluid started to ooze out of its eyelike opening and stand there like a perfectly clear tear.



I looked at Caleb's face. It was cast down and flushed with shame. I assumed it was because I now knew the secret of what he was hiding in his trousers. My heart raced at the thought.



"It's how God ordained," I said. "If God gave all men such things, you don't need to be ashamed for me to see or even touch yours. I will never see or touch you there again until we marry. But I must be sure. You see that, don't you, my sweet love?"



"I know. But it's more. It's not only what God gave me that I don't want you to see. It's what Johnny Reb gave me. It's so ugly."



"No," I said. "I hadn't even noticed."



I now observed that his left leg was somewhat swollen and reddish, and especially so all around a sunken white place about the size of a dollar coin where the muscle had been torn away.



"It's not ugly. It just ... a hurt place. Does it pain you?"



"Yes, often it does. The doctors said it would slowly get better, and it has, but I'll always feel it, especially when it's cold. "



"It's warm now," I said, and began gently to draw a circle around the area of injury.



He flinched.



"Oh! Did I hurt you?" I asked.



"No," he said. "But I can't think you really want to touch such an ugly leg."



"You don't think so?" I said.



Then I rearranged myself on the grassy bank so I could run my lips very lightly along the edges of injured area and kiss it.



"Does that hurt?" I asked, looking up at him.



"Of course not," he said, and his deep brown eyes became moist.



"Don't ever say it's ugly. It's part of you and you're beautiful."



"I wish I could believe that," he said.



"Caleb. You can. I want so much to marry you and be with you as long as we both shall live. But we have to do the last thing."



"I know," he said.



I raised myself up until I was again beside him and let my right hand trace down his gathered shirt to his belly. I ran my fingers over the surface of the hairy mass and then moved them to his stiffly standing organ. I squeezed the opening at the tip of the head and lifted the clear bead from it.



As I did this, I thought, I am touching my Caleb's very most private part. I knew then I loved him so much, and I felt a stirring wetness between my legs where one day soon I prayed I would receive that part.



"What do I do?" I asked.



"Just ... just ... move it ... you know ... up and down," he said with great effort.



Slowly I massaged the head of his organ, and then the thick shaft, making it move and ripple.



"Yes," Caleb said.



He began softly sighing. I shifted my position so that with the fingers of my left hand, I could play lightly with the orbs I could see bouncing in the wrinkled sack at the base of his organ.



After a while, Caleb began to move his hips, causing his organ to thrust up and down in rhythm with the movement of my hand, and he began making slight moaning sounds. Then his body became rigid, and he made an odd, strangled noise, an "uh, uh ... aaaaah!"



I wasn't prepared for what then happened. The eye at the top of his warm, full maleness erupted with a long jet of whitish liquid that rose arcing a foot or more in the air and splashed on his belly hair, his shirt, and his coat lapel.



His moans slowly descended in volume and his whole body slipped into limpness. His sticky organ followed, sinking back to its original state, suitable again for its daily hiding in his trousers.



We cleaned my hand and all of him, including his shirt and coat as best we could, using his handkerchief and then one of my petticoats. Finally, we laughed together as we plotted how he could get home without having to explain to his family or mine what had happened to his clothes.



"It wasn't so bad, was it?" I asked.



He gave me a long, deep kiss with his tongue in my mouth. We would be man and wife. I would soon have more than his tongue deep inside me.



Despite the shocks and mental hardships of that day of revelation, it made all the difference in my life. When Caleb and I lie together in the dark, positioning ourselves to spare his injured leg, I think of that moment. When he enters between my thighs with his thick, thrusting organ, I know it will end in a trembling volcanic spurt that I have seen with my own eyes.