7
"Upon the Foot-Stool of God"
Working Conditions of Prostitutes

Many nineteenth-century contemporaries believed that the degrading and dehumanizing conditions of prostitution caused a woman unavoidably to experience a complete character change. The woman who was once pure in nature supposedly became totally depraved, capable of an assortment of crimes and the most disgusting actions. Charles Smith devoted an entire chapter of his 1847 book on prostitution and abortion in New York to a discussion of a phenomenon which he said "astonished all observers": the "extreme and marvelous rapidity with which the purest girls become depraved" once they became prostitutes. According to Smith, a pure girl would become a prostitute, and within a few months she would be bold, brazen, impudent, audacious, foul-mouthed, and vulgar, apparently destitute of all sense of decency and shame. "An angelic woman," he claimed, "becomes the most revolting creature that crawls upon the foot-stool of God."^[1] An 1837 commencement speaker at Columbia College argued that "in the female character there is no mid-region; it must exist in spotless innocence, or else in hopeless vice."^[2] The "poison" of prostitution, wrote contemporary George Foster, "is active as lightning, and produces a kind of moral insanity, during which the victim is pleased with ruin. . .. The woman is transformed to a devil and there is no hope for her."^[3]

These observations helped uphold contemporary notions that women must be either mother-angels or whore-devils and also helped rationalize

why women, though initially victims, would stay in the prostitution profession. Part of the attempt by contemporaries to explain the nature of women who would violate accepted norms of womanhood and become prostitutes also involved an attempt to explain and impose some kind of order on the underworld of commercial sex which had expanded so greatly. Most nineteenth-century observers who wrote about prostitutes utilized an elaborate hierarchical cataloguing of prostitution establishments and their inhabitants, partly as a way of imposing order on the institutions of sexual commerce and partly as a distancing technique. As Judith Walkowitz has pointed out, the use of stratification helped to depersonalize the social underworld and establish a demarcation between the respectable and "dangerous" classes of society.^[4]

The hierarchical method of describing commercial sex establishments was first used in 1836 by Parent-Duchatelet, whose method was apparently imitated by most of New York's observers of prostitution. Writing in the decade after Parent-Duchatelet and basing his observations on his experiences as a physician among New York's prostitutes, Charles Smith was the first to analyze and classify New York's prostitution businesses. Sex establishments were judged by the luxury and comfort they offered; the refinement, behavior, and attractiveness of the women who worked in and managed them; and the socioeconomic status of clients who patronized them. Establishments also were characterized by the types of "lovers" drawn to the class of prostitutes who resided there. Writing a decade after Smith, William Sanger used the same types of classifications and categories but was more "scientific" and more like Parent in that he incorporated into his study not only his professional observations but also statistical data from actual research among these women. Sex establishments and prostitutes' working conditions also were described in more "popular" antebellum works, the urban sketches in which readers were guided on fictional tours through the dens of vice and poverty of the New York underworld. In the late 1840s and early 1850s several journalists published book-length sketches, such as Solon Robinson, Hot Corn: Life Scenes in New York Illustrated ; Ned Buntline (E. C. Z. Judson), Mysteries and Miseries of New York ; and George Foster, New York in Slices, New York by GasLight , and New York Naked . Literature published after the Civil War drew from both types of antebellum works, keeping the class stratification of the scientific observers but combining commercial sex clas-

sifications with the voyeuristic style used by Foster, Robinson, and Buntline. These postwar authors attempted to educate the reader on the "other," "under," or "nether" world of prostitution. Most of these writers, such as George Ellington, Matthew Hale Smith, James D. McCabe, and Edward Crapsey, not only adopted the format of earlier authors but also closely followed each others' works in content, organization, and style, basically repeating the information given by the most recently published of their group.^[5] In spite of the fact that many of these nineteenth-century descriptions were manipulated to create a well-delineated hierarchy, they are valuable as general descriptions of how urban prostitution was organized in the United States from the early decades of the nineteenth century into the twentieth, and they offer examples of the vast range of conditions under which nineteenth-century prostitutes worked.

For most of the laboring population of nineteenth-century urban America, working conditions were less than desirable. A sweatshop; a poorly ventilated, often unsafe factory; or the crowded, dark, unsanitary home-laborer's tenement provided the physical environment most New Yorkers could expect for their daily employment. The majority of New York prostitutes were poor, so they, too, faced a work environment oftentimes as dismal as that experienced by their non-prostitute peers. Yet there was another side to prostitution, visible to all and tempting to many, that offered prospects for improved working conditions—conditions far more comfortable than the ordinary working woman could ever hope to experience. The possibilities for wealth and luxury increased greatly over the century, and well-to-do New Yorkers built residential structures that reflected their economic success, surrounding themselves with material objects of the finest and most luxurious kinds. Those prostitution houses that catered to a prosperous level of client duplicated this opulent atmosphere, appealing to a client's economic aspirations as well as his sexual fantasies. Some brothels were filled with the best furnishings available, while others settled for ostentatious or tawdry imitations. Many women entered prostitution dreaming of working in a more luxurious atmosphere, but most hoped simply to achieve comforts and working conditions better than those they faced in respectable employments. Since clients' expectations and economic resources varied, there was always a demand for houses with different levels of luxury and comfort, as well as for prostitutes who exhibited

distinctions in refinement and behavior commensurate with the status of the houses. Responding to market demands, the prostitution business in nineteenth-century New York supplied a diversity of houses and women, establishments that could cater to patrons from every social and economic class—the rich and the poor, the refined and the vulgar.

Observers developed various systems for classifying prostitution establishments. Most distinguished between brothels, assignation houses, and leisure or secondary prostitution institutions, and within each of these categories they noted from four to eight different class levels. In general, however, one could say that establishments and their employees were grouped as upper or first class; middle class, with subcategories related to inmates' ethnicity, methods of solicitation, and other norms of behavior; and lower class. Contemporary descriptions of houses in each of these classes give an indication of how establishments were evaluated and how they differed in terms of physical and social environment.

Extremes often attracting most attention, observers tended to describe either those brothels that were the most lavishly decorated or tenements that were disgusting and filthy. In the 1830s, Rosina Townsend was said to have one of the "most splendid establishments" in the city, a large, four-story, double house that was painted yellow. The interior was "elegantly furnished with mirrors, splendid paintings, sofas, ottomans, and every variety of costly furniture." An elaborate staircase led to the upper rooms. The second-story bedroom that was the scene of the Jewett murder was described as "elegant and extravagant." The room had a large draped bed and a number of other pieces of furniture, including a work table with "pen, papers, and pamphlets," and a "library of light novels, poetry and periodicals." Over the fireplace mantle were hung several theatrical fancy sketches, and on another wall was a print portrait of Lord Byron.^[6] Even more elaborate than Townsend's brothel was Kate Ridgley's place at 78 Duane Street, described in an 1853 brothel directory as the palace of mirrors, with sixty superbly furnished rooms, including "two lower parlors lined with mirrors which alone cost $8000. The furnishings of the palace cost upwards of $70,000."^[7] Two decades later, the equally posh but smaller brothel of Kate Woods, located further uptown on West Twenty-fifth Street, was popularly known as the Hotel de Wood. Wood's brothel was a "three story, brownstone house furnished through with the most costly and newest improvements. Her

gallery of oil paintings alone cost $10,000. Rosewood furniture, immense mirrors, Parisien figures, & c. The house is furnished at a cost of $70,000."^[8]

Although the houses of Townsend, Ridgley, and Woods offered the physical working conditions most prostitutes dreamed of having, the majority of them worked in much more modest surroundings. According to one mid-century observer, the difference in the first- and second-class (or middle-class) brothels was that "what is costly luxury in the one is replaced by tawdry finery in the other, and for expensive mirrors and valuable paintings they substitute cheaper ornamentation."^[9] Some middle-class establishments were in very old houses, where the inhabitants' plain rooms contrasted sharply with the well-decorated private quarters of Townsend's brothel. Prostitutes of this class might rent an apartment "of middling size, . . . having but little furniture . . . a bed, two or three chairs, some rude toilet conveniences," and perhaps a stove for cooking meals.^[10] A different type of middle-class establishment was the German house. Small and often located in a basement, German houses were entered through a reception/barroom in which the windows were decorated with crimson and white curtains, a symbol that the business was a prostitution establishment. "The room is very clean; a common sofa, one or two settees, and a number of chairs are ranged round the walls; there is a small table with some German newspapers upon it; a piano, upon which the proprietor or his bar-keeper at intervals performs a national melody; and a few prints or engravings complete its furniture."^[11] Behind the barroom, the remainder of the floor space was partitioned off into very small bedrooms to accommodate the three or four women who worked as prostitutes in the house.

Prostitution establishments of the lower class were often characterized by abhorrent working conditions that a woman found hard to escape. The Sun described a prostitution "kennel" in Cross Street as a place where the prostitutes "sleep promiscuously heads and points on a field bed of straw spread over the whole floor like so many pigs, men and women, drunk and sober, and black and white."^[12] Places of this sort were "without a table, chair, or any other article of furniture, save a cooking utensil, a few plates, and knives, and bottle, with which to carry on the business of living."^[13]

Acknowledging that contemporaries often exaggerated their descriptions, the hierarchy of prostitution made clear that, even if only for a

brief time, a woman in prostitution had the opportunity for working conditions that at best could be far superior to those of thousands of her working-class sisters and at worst might not be any more degraded. Thus, if the prostitute herself thought about a hierarchy of prostitution, she thought of it first in economic terms—wishing to create a level of luxury or the ambience necessary to attract the desired clients who would provide the greatest economic profit for her and her house. Second, prostitutes judged or "ranked" their work environments by the personal comforts and pleasures afforded by the house, their coworkers, and their clients. Lastly, prostitutes were concerned with the degree of physical security the workplace provided. Most prostitutes, therefore, considered themselves to be moving up or down within the profession as they increased or decreased their profits, comforts, and security. As far as clients were concerned, most prostitutes did not entertain men who had vastly different socioeconomic backgrounds from their own, though many hoped through personal attractiveness, social skills, and cleverness to have the opportunity to improve their social and financial situations. Some succeeded in this goal, but many others, especially long-term prostitutes who did not go into management, often suffered from the debilitating aspects of the profession and experienced a decline in socioeconomic status, personal comfort, and physical safety.^[14]

The person who was key to ensuring the benefits expected of a prostitution establishment was the madam or house keeper. A large portion of her success was determined by her personal traits and individual talents and skills, but the house customs and practices she established also played a role in ensuring profits, security, and comfort.

Like house prostitutes, the madam was a part of the profession's hierarchy, and her refinement, sophistication, cleverness, and skills were directly related to her success in her job. The madam was a major factor in determining the "personality" of the house. The key phrases describing houses of prostitution in brothel directories usually were those concerning the madam's disposition, which appeared to set the tone for the house. The following examples illustrate the importance of the madam's personality:

Miss Ridgley is a lady of high order and conducts her house in a manner that is an honor to herself, while her lady boarders pattern after her.

Mrs. M. Gardner . . . is the most honorable landlady in New York; her word is good for any amount. . .. Gentlemen will receive the best of treatment at her hands; her young lady boarders take after her.

This pug-nosed thing [Mrs. C. C. Cook] . . . pretends to be very nice- . . . [but] gentlemen had better not trouble her crib as there are enough better places where a person can enjoy a little pleasure with perfect safety.

Miss Marshall . . . [is] not much liked by sister landladies; her boarders are apt to be saucy. The landlady is a little too set in her ways and not very benevolent.

Mrs. C. Hathaway [is] experienced, witty, etc. The house is elegant throughout . . . and much frequented. Her young ladies are healthy, amiable, pretty, accomplished, and know how to entertain.

Mrs. Redding—Sweetness of temper being no prominent ingredient in this lady's (if we may so call her,) composition—boarders never stay long with her.^[15]

No matter how charming or witty a madam was, if she did not possess certain business skills, the house probably did not prosper as a profitable enterprise. As a business manager, the madam supervised the resident prostitutes and in larger houses also managed the staff that serviced the women and the customers. The better brothels had staffs to cook and serve meals, clean the houses, and keep linens fresh, and some used the services of musicians, hairdressers, seamstresses, porters, bartenders, and maids who helped with dressing. In some cases the number of brothel employees was so large that the madam was, in effect, running a small hotel. In 1850 Ellen Thompson had sixteen resident prostitutes, six female servants, one coachman, and a baby of one of the servants in her house. Jane Winslow also had sixteen prostitutes and one black male waiter in residence; she must have used day help for domestic chores. Kate Hastings also must have had day help because no servants were listed in a parlor house that had twenty prostitute residents. Amanda Parker housed nine prostitutes, four female servants, and one male servant. Maria Adams, noted for her benevolence as the "Queen of the Landladies," had fourteen resident prostitutes and also boarded six female servants and four children. By 1855 several of these madams had slightly reduced the number of inhabitants in their establishments,

but others expanded their operations, like Cinderella Marshall, who employed seventeen prostitutes, five female servants, and one male servant. With staffs as large as these, madams needed effective personnel and communication skills as well as business management talents.^[16]

Keeping finances in order often meant a madam had to be tough with business associates. Julia Brown was brought to the court because she refused to pay fees she had been assessed for legal services. According to testimony, Brown had engaged a lawyer to transact all of her legal affairs, and, unbeknownst to her, he had subcontracted the legal work to another attorney. Arguing that she had not been consulted and thus was not financially responsible, Brown refused to pay the second attorney. The court supported her action and ordered a "nonsuit."^[17]

A major portion of brothel management involved overseeing household purchases and other expenditures. As household mistress, the madam had to see that there were adequate supplies of wine, fuel, and other staples, and she was in charge of ensuring that the building was properly maintained. Just like any other homeowner, a brothel madam made certain that carpenters, plasterers, and painters were available for repairs, and that these were done quickly and properly, especially since rowdy and destructive patrons and bullies were a frequent problem.^[18]

Physical stamina was also important for a madam. A household mistress was "on duty" as long as there were customers in the house, which could be until the early hours of the morning. Household chores then had to be taken care of in the pre- and post-noon hours so that the brothel was ready for business by early evening. One of the complaints voiced by several brothel managers was that the job was a twenty-four-hour endeavor and was extremely demanding physically. One nineteenth-century madam noted that as a result of the physical and psychological stresses of running a brothel, she lost weight and was "too tired to care" about the attractive men in her life that she should have been enjoying.^[19] Furthermore, in some of the middle- and lower-class brothels, physical strength as well as physical stamina was an asset because madams often had to try to control rowdy patrons.^[20]

As friend and "mother" to her prostitutes, a madam frequently had to counsel the women about their problems. She also served as mediator in an effort to keep quarrels, conflicts, and competition among residents to a minimum. Her role as confidante and friend, however, had to be balanced with her role as efficient manager, and this sometimes meant

that tough decisions had to be made about dismissing a prostitute who was too diseased to work or who no longer was attracting enough customers to pay her way.^[21] In addition, madams often were called upon to have some knowledge of first aid and a little do-it-yourself gynecology. Finally, if a prostitute died, the madam usually saw it as her role to see that the woman had a "decent" funeral and burial.^[22]

The internal affairs of a house were only part of a madam's responsibilities. Tact and diplomacy were key skills in dealing with customers and community members. Care had to be taken that neighbors were not offended enough to make complaints to the police, and it was important to keep a congenial working relationship with local officials so they would be as lenient as possible in the event of complaints. Most important of all was being discreet about customers. Prostitutes pretended not to know customers if they met them in public situations.^[23] If subpoenaed to testify in court hearings, prostitutes cooperated with legal officials, but the testimony of brothel or assignation house managers was often extremely evasive. Rosina Townsend was willing to have her court testimony discredited rather than reveal the identity of a respectable client, and Caroline Ingersoll's testimony in the Forrest divorce case was a paradigm of evasiveness. The transcript of her testimony ran to four pages characterized by claims that she saw or remembered nothing:

I never saw him in the room or go into it; I never saw him in any place in my house, except my parlor, which is in the front room on the first story; I received him in the parlor and left him there; . . . I retired because of my household duties; I cannot recollect the charge for the room; when he asked for a room, he simply asked for a room;... I don't know whether he occupied it or not; . . . I never saw him bring anyone with him; I never heard any one with him; it may appear very strange to you, but nevertheless it is truth. I did not usually endeavor to hear and understand all that I could, or to see what he did with the room; that is not my character; I never saw any one with him, never heard anyone with him, and I could not know what business he had in the room; . . . I kept a boarding-house.^[24]

Although a madam's personal skills were key to the success of her establishment, she could use certain "house customs" or practices as a means to further control brothel security or increase profits. A few of the more select houses had requirements or rituals for entry which allowed housekeepers to screen clientele. Rituals also served to make clients think they were being admitted to discriminating houses. Some estab-

lishments required a letter of invitation or recommendation from a previous patron-in-good-standing, while others had a special knock and password or counter-sign known to the select few. In others, the door was kept locked, and the madam or doorkeeper looked at the patron through a peephole or glass panel before allowing entry.^[25] Townsend had a special door lock that was used after midnight, so that each prostitute letting out a customer after that time had to awaken Townsend to get the key. Another house had a spring chain on the inside of the door, and the only way to enter or leave was to have the chain loosened by a special instrument kept by the madam.^[26]

Madams also helped subsidize house income with the custom of "treating." Although many customers bought wines or champagne over the course of an evening, in some houses customers, especially new customers, were expected to treat the house, or buy drinks for everyone in the parlor. Some customers, such as John Kinmon, found that failure to treat caused difficulties for them. Kinmon reported to police that "the old hag" of an Orange Street brothel asked him to treat everyone (at 50 cents a glass), and when he refused, she told him: "It is always customary to treat." When he persisted in refusing, he said the women of the house gathered round him and taunted him by taking off his hat and goading him with a pin. In response, he knocked down several prostitutes, which set off a free-for-all with broomsticks, shovels, tongs, and pokers. The women brought charges of assault and battery against Kinmon, but the judge released him.^[27]

Although madams or prostitutes might have tried to increase revenues by servicing as many customers as possible, sources do not indicate that efficiency was even overtly emphasized, at least not in the more established brothels. There are several late-nineteenth-century and early twentieth-century references to an "assembly line" approach to patrons, noting that a prostitute might have sex with as many as thirty customers in an evening and might spend only three minutes with a customer from the time he entered the bedroom until he left. One turn-of-the-century prostitute was said to have had sex with fifty-eight men in less than three hours.^[28] This kind of "efficiency" might have been characteristic of lower-class "cribs" rather than high-priced establishments, but references such as these are not readily found for the early half of the nineteenth century, regardless of the class of house. Antebellum prostitutes appear to have been more "task oriented" than

"time disciplined," and such pre-industrial rhythms apparently prevailed in brothels through most of the century.^[29]

William Sanger gives some indication of the range in numbers of customers that might have been seen by mid-century prostitutes in attempting to illustrate the alarming possibilities for the spread of venereal disease. In estimating the number of New Yorkers exposed to venereal disease each day, Sanger used a factor of one to two clients per prostitute but noted that an estimate of one customer was "ridiculously small, . . . even two visitors is a very low estimate, and four is very far from an unreasonably large one."^[30] At one point in his discussion he stated that "each prostitute in New York receives from one to ten visitors every day" and, in a few instances, "sometimes double" that number, a total that would alarm anyone calculating the possibilities for the spread of disease.^[31] Even when trying to create a sense of urgency over the need to pass contagious-disease legislation, the closest researcher of prostitution in the age put twenty clients per day as an extreme. When not discussing disease, but rather determining the "most correct" total of fees earned in parlor houses, Sanger recommended calculating on the basis of two visitors per prostitute per day.^[32] Apparently, most mid-century patrons expected their sex transactions to be allotted more than a few minutes, and prostitutes also expected to give more time. The nineteenth century's increase in public prostitution may have been indicative of the widespread impersonalization of sex, as historians have noted, but antebellum commercial sex transactions still appear to have retained characteristics of sociability. If prostitutes had but two clients on average a day it seems that the relationship must have been somewhat social as well as sexual—though that of course does not prove the prostitute liked the one any better than the other.

Even though prostitutes and madams tried to ensure that their working conditions were comfortable and secure, they could not avoid all the risks and dangers that went along with the profession. Of all of the prostitute's problems, perhaps the least harmful, but bothersome, was harassment from other members of the community. Neighbors who found prostitutes offensive seldom took direct action but made complaints to the police asking that officials use legal measures to close the houses. The relatively small number of disorderly house cases brought to court, however, is an indication of the general ineffectiveness of this procedure.^[33] In one instance, neighbors took direct action by offering

to pay a madam more than $1,000 to move her house to another neighborhood. She refused unless they would double the payment. Angry, the residents went to the police but would not file charges because they did not want attention focused on their neighborhood. The police came to the group's aid by posting an officer at the entry to the house. As each customer arrived, the officer flashed a light in his face and told him not to enter because the house was to be "pulled"—a tactic that quickly caused the madam to remove the brothel from the area.^[34] Though in this case harassment was successful, the complexity of these offers and transactions, capped by the police engaging in illegal tactics to aid the neighbors, underscores the bargaining position of prostitutes in conflicts with the community.

Other community members who were concerned about prostitution houses were missionaries and moral reformers. Representatives of these groups who visited brothels in their spiritual capacities usually reported that they were treated with courtesy, but the prostitutes who had to listen politely to lectures, Bible verses, and prayers must have become impatient with the visitors at times. Still, the reports suggest rather notable politeness on both sides, much like that between gentler home owners and the Mormon or Jehovah's Witness missionaries who might knock today. Of course, rougher places of prostitution sometimes were the scene of rougher responses. McCabe stated that in the lowest sort of dance houses on Water Street, missionaries might be met with vile abuse and be driven away with curses.^[35]

Another form of harassment experienced by prostitutes was the claim by customers that prostitutes had stolen from them. Certainly thefts occurred, as panel houses show, but since theft was commonly touted as one of the dangers of patronizing prostitutes, disgruntled clients believed they would receive a ready ear to such claims. Although cash often was at issue, watches were said to have been stolen almost as frequently. Jane Brown of 136 Duane Street was charged with stealing a watch from a German man. She told the judge it had been given to her for her "services," which the customer did not deny, so she was acquitted and discharged.^[36] Jane Robinson was not so fortunate in the court. Her client tried to leave without paying, so she made a fuss, and he, too, gave payment with his watch. The customer then went to the police and charged that Robinson had stolen the timepiece. After hearing her story, the judge released her but forced her to return the watch,

leaving her with no remuneration for her night's work.^[37] Whether or not claims of theft were true, prostitutes had to take the time to defend themselves before the police, and, if the item in question was found in the prostitute's possession, she had to persuade the authorities it was legitimately hers.

One mid-century case illustrates the confidence (or perhaps naiveté) with which some prostitutes operated in the community. The police had received information that a $500 bank bill had been found in Elizabeth Williams's Greene Street brothel, after being reported missing by a previous client. They went to the house, and Williams turned over the note—but later she read in the paper that a $100 reward had been offered for its return. Feeling she had been cheated out of her rightful reward—not that she might be the prime suspect for theft—Williams went directly to Mayor Havemeyer and argued her case. The mayor promised to review her claim, even though the reward money already had been divided among the police and the person who had provided the tip leading to recovery of the note at Williams's house.^[38]

Finally, loss by theft was also a danger for prostitutes themselves, since they daily opened their private quarters to strangers. Prostitutes' possessions were periodically stolen by customers, leading to legal hassles as prostitutes sought to reclaim lost valuables, get restitution, or press charges.^[39]

Many times disgruntlement or harassment turned into violence. Prostitutes had a long list of potential adversaries—clients, local bullies, lovers, creditors, madams, and each other. Many examples of violence have been noted in Chapter 5 in relation to eases brought by prostitutes in the courts. (Also see Chapters 8 and 9.) Prostitutes certainly worried about their property being destroyed by violent attacks, but they worried even more about being physically assaulted. Newspapers and court records detail an enormous catalogue of acts of personal violence: prostitutes were beaten, stabbed, stomped, kicked, burned, bludgeoned, stoned, cut, bound, raped, seared with acid, shoved down stairs, and finally, murdered.^[40] In one episode described by the Sun, two sailors who were visiting a brothel

took bureau drawers and threw them downstairs breaking them to pieces, tore bedding and attempted to set fire to beds, and did set fire to the hair of a girl and burned her severely. They threw two chairs at her as she was going upstairs

to prevent further destruction of property, broke and destroyed trunks and threw them downstairs and left the place a scene of destruction.^[41]

In most cases the prostitute found legal recourse in the courts, but court action could hardly repair the physical and emotional damage suffered by the women.

Some of the prostitute's legal problems and personal abuse were caused by the criminal element that hung around many brothels and secondary prostitution establishments. Participants in the "panel game" were the most well known of the prostitute's criminal connections, but willingly or unwillingly, prostitutes also found themselves parties to other illegal schemes. A number of sources noted that prostitutes often had close connections with gamblers, a profession from which Sanger, Foster, Ellington, and other contemporary writers believed many prostitutes' lovers were drawn. Some prostitutes' acquaintances were known to use brothels to unload counterfeit money, while others found the houses of their prostitute "molls" convenient places to stash stolen items.^[42] One brothel owner's husband was convicted of robbery and election fraud, and another prostitute, "grass widow" Harriett Smith, was said to have five "husbands" in five different prisons. According to the Police Gazette , Smith was considered an asset to the state because marriage to her seemed to ensure that a lawbreaker would be brought to justice. The newspaper further noted that Smith "stands with arms open for a new alliance, but thieves are getting shy of her."^[43]

Prostitutes easily could become partners in blackmail schemes, sometimes without full knowledge of the implications of what they were doing. One notorious extortion case in the 1850s, which the press believed was representative of many in the city, received daily coverage in the papers for the several months it was being heard in the courts. Prostitute Ellen Williams, who had been "kept" in an assignation house by an older man named Henry Havens, became pregnant and asked attorney George Niles to assist her in getting financial support from Havens during her period of confinement. Niles and his co-conspirator, attorney Nathan Roberts, told Williams they probably could not get much money for her unless she could claim she had a husband, and then they could pursue heavy damages on charges of criminal connection. Williams had been married previously, so the case was brought in the name of her ex-spouse. In the end, the lawyers told Williams they were

able to get only a few hundred dollars, which actually was only a portion of the $2,000 they had extorted from Havens. Apparently, Havens learned he had been misled and brought conspiracy charges against Niles and Roberts for obtaining money by false pretenses. The Herald seemed to show sympathy for Havens, who was characterized as one of the "many rich old fathers, bachelors and husbands who have paid the penalty" of getting caught in various types of extortion schemes. Such men were both innocent and guilty: "No sensitive old man wishes to be subjected to such an ordeal. . .. Dupes pay thousands to be held harmless of exposure." The judge in the case, recognizing the person really defrauded, pointed out that Williams rightfully should recover the full amount of the money.^[44]

A number of prostitutes tried to offset the complications arising from their associations with the criminal world by helping authorities with cases. The Police Gazette intimated that Harriett Smith may have "squealed" on her five husbands' illegal activities, and Eliza Fisher actively intervened as an intermediary in several robbery cases in 1839. One of Fisher's acquaintances, a man known as Black Hawk (George Rollough), apparently stole some money which he first hid in a brothel in Mulberry Street and then moved to Fisher's brothel. After Black Hawk was arrested, Fisher visited him in prison and advised him to give up the money. He instructed her to give the officers $36, and he then was released from prison. On another occasion Fisher was asked to keep a hundred-dollar bill for a man known as Green Jacket (James Charles). Green Jacket was arrested on grand larceny charges for taking some "Texian bank bills" from a man at a restaurant. Fisher visited Green Jacket in prison and got his permission to give the bank bill to the police. At first she refused to identify the man who had given her the money, in hopes the issue would be dropped and Green Jacket freed, but the authorities were able to confirm he had been the culprit. Another time, James Smith, alias Mouse, was identified by an eyewitness (a prostitute whose husband also was being sought by the police) as the thief of a fur cap which was taken from a store near the Astor House Hotel. Officer Bowyer then went to Eliza Fisher's and asked her to get word to Mouse that the police wanted to see him as soon as possible. In a short while, Mouse and his accomplice met officer Bowyer, were arrested, and were found guilty of the theft. In spite of her well-publicized connections with criminals, Eliza Fisher appears to have taken exception to publicity that

she would allow a lawbreaker to live in her house. In January 1840 the Sun printed an article about the arrest of two men on burglary charges, and it noted that one of the men resided at Eliza Fisher's in Leonard Street. Fisher went to the paper and insisted that a correction be printed, noting that the man was not an inmate of her house, had not been arrested there, and had no connection whatsoever with her.^[45]

Some of the risks and dangers faced by prostitutes were considered occupational hazards. One of the most widespread dangers was venereal disease, or what William Sanger described as a "frightful physical malady."^[46] In his survey of prostitutes, Sanger asked if the women had had "any disease incident to prostitution." According to Sanger, two-fifths of the prostitutes examined "CONFESS that they have suffered from syphilis or gonorrhea." He then noted his belief, based on his professional experience, that "the real number far exceeds this average; that, alarming as is the confession, the actual facts are much worse."^[47] Sanger stated that venereal disease was seldom found in the first- and second-class brothels and assignation houses, but was very common among prostitutes of the lower orders, being a major reason for a prostitute's decline to the bottom levels of the profession. He also believed that venereal diseases were much more prevalent among foreigners than the native-born. Aside from his general class bias, Sanger attributed some credit for a better health environment in upper-class brothels to the fact that a few of the brothel keepers paid "a physician a liberal salary to visit their boarders every few days for the express purpose of carrying out [medical examinations and] resorting to treatment whenever he finds it necessary."^[48] In The Gentleman's Directory of 1870, the entry for Lizzie Goodrich's establishment on West Twenty-seventh Street confirms this practice, noting in the midst of a description of the attributes of the brothel that "there is a regular physician attached to this house."^[49] The practice of in-house medical exams was especially popular among house keepers who were from Europe and were accustomed to laws that enforced regular medical examinations of prostitutes, a procedure that William Sanger, Charles Smith, and other members of the medical and public health professions were campaigning to have accepted in American cities. ^[50]

But whatever medical treatment a prostitute might receive for venereal disease was of questionable effectiveness. Salvarsan was not introduced until 1910, so nineteenth-century medical practitioners

largely depended either on mercury cures, which had terrible side effects, or on surgery, the most gruesome of possible cures. Mercury treatment was dreaded because it was known to cause bleeding gums, ulcerated cheeks, gangrene, necrosis of the jaw bones, frothing at the mouth, and occasionally, strangulation. ^[51] But as ineffective as physicians' treatments might be, the cures advertised through newspapers and journals and in handbills distributed on the streets were even less helpful. Patent medicines such as "Red Drop" and "Unfortunate's Friend" could easily be ordered through the mails. One mid-century brothel guidebook contained an advertisement which read: "Private diseases of both sexes cured without mercury. Seminal pills for Nervous Debility, $1 a box or 6 boxes for $5. Mail or office circulars sent."^[52] Drugstores also sold a variety of cures both over the counter and by prescription, and one could even mix one's own remedy without having to purchase ingredients from a druggist. Pine Knot Bitters was a favorite home remedy sold in liquor stores, said to be used most frequently by the "lower classes." Even if poor prostitutes had the resources to purchase Pine Knot Bitters or one of the other ineffective popular remedies, many sooner or later were forced to resort to the only professional treatment available to the diseased poor, the penitentiary hospital. A prostitute wanting "public" treatment could go to the police station, request a commitment to Blackwell's Island Hospital, and be committed to the penitentiary on the grounds she was a vagrant, "having contracted an infectious disease in the practice of debauchery."^[53] Police court proceedings in the newspapers record that this was not an uncommon practice. Elizabeth Burgen, like many other poor prostitutes, went before the local magistrate and requested to be sent to the Island so she could be cured of her "chronic syphilitic disease." Justice Wyman committed her for ninety days, a term she never got to serve because, as she was ascending the jail stairs, she became faint, sat down, and instantly died. The inquest held to determine cause of death confirmed that her diseased condition had indeed been desperate. ^[54]

It is difficult to say what percentage of prostitutes contracted venereal disease since, as Sanger noted, the number "willing to confess" they had been infected may have been much lower than the number who had actually had the disease. ^[55] Knowledge that a prostitute had been infected surely was a deterrent for customers, so the woman would not want the fact known if the disease's manifestations were in remission. No class of

prostitute was exempt from the danger, but some were able to hide it better. The majority of victims may well have ended up as diseased, dissipated "hags" at the bottom of the prostitution hierarchy, but the upper echelons of the profession were equally vulnerable. The coroner's report of the examination of Helen Jewett's body noted that: "The uterus was unimpregnated but labouring under an old disease."^[56] No age group was immune to the problem either. As distressing as it was for New Yorkers to think about the number of adult prostitutes who were infected with venereal disease, the large number of juvenile prostitutes who were being treated in public institutions was even more distressing. Mary Kemp became diseased in her young teens while living in a prostitution house in Albany. Though treated by a doctor for five months, the disease got worse, so she moved to New York City hoping to find a cure. In New York she lived with a girlfriend at a prostitution establishment on Greene Street. She was discovered there by a missionary, Mr. Brown, who took her to the Magdalen Asylum, where he paid her board and put her in the care of a physician. Since she did not improve, the Magdalen Asylum asked that she be moved to the Almshouse. After five weeks at the Almshouse, Mr. Brown found her employment, but Kemp was so weak she could not keep her job. She was then fifteen years old and was admitted to the House of Refuge, where it was recorded that her disease was "filthy in the extreme" and was marked by sores that were "disagreeable" to anyone coming near her. After some improvement she was indentured away from the city, but the employer sent her back because she was so badly infected. ^[57]

Many prostitutes tried to hide their venereal disease, and all of them wished to avoid it, but their multiple sexual contacts made them likely victims as well as carriers of the "frightful physical malady." Few contemporaries, however, recognized the prostitute as the "victim" of venereal disease. Blame was passed in only one direction, and it commenced with the prostitute. Husbands who consorted with prostitutes were condemned for spreading the disease from the brothel to their respectable wives, but no one worried about or condemned the men who gave the disease to prostitutes. ^[58]

Another occupational hazard of prostitution was pregnancy. Since pregnancy caused a prostitute to be out of work for at least some period of time and created post-delivery concerns as to how or whether to care for a child, many prostitutes took steps to avoid or stop a pregnancy.

Full-time prostitutes were assumed to be well-versed on birth control methods, and part-time prostitutes also were probably familiar with some of the techniques, which were well-publicized in contemporary literature. Although contraception literature was labeled "obscene," it was not until the post-Civil War period that legal restrictions made the dissemination of birth control information difficult. ^[59]

Almost every birth control method used today existed in some rudimentary form by the middle of the nineteenth century; the notable exception, of course, is the contraceptive hormone pill. None of the nineteenth-century methods was sure, some were totally ineffective, and others were harmful. Also, some of the techniques, such as the then-popular rhythm method, were unsuitable for commercial sex. Even if it had been practical for prostitutes to arrange their business calendar around their fertility cycle, the rhythm method still would have been ineffective for them, as it was for everyone else until 1924, when the ovulation cycle was first identified with precision. Methods requiring the customer's cooperation, such as coitus interruptus and condoms, were obviously risky for the prostitute.^[60] Nevertheless, some men used condoms as a protection against venereal disease, and the prostitute benefited by reducing her chances for conception--and infection. One mid-century brothel directory advertised condoms, noting their dual purpose as well as their differences in cost and quality:

French Imported Male Safes--A perfect shield against disease or conception, made of both skin and India rubber. Can be procured at the following prices at office, or by mail. $2, $3, and $4 per dozen; 3 for $1,4 for $1.^[61]

The same source advertised "Ladies Protectors, $3.00 each," which probably referred to vaginal sponges, pessaries, cotton tampons, or suppositories, all of which were used at the time. The most popular form of contraception employed by nineteenth-century women was douching, often with plain water, or with alum, perlash, zinc sulfate, carbolic acid, saline solution, or infusions of white oak bark and red rose leaves. ^[62] Some of these solutions were ineffective; others were so strong they were harmful, causing damage to tissue, which then led to infections and other complications.

In spite of efforts to prevent conception, some prostitutes became pregnant. If the child was not wanted, abortion was the quickest solution. An abortion was not difficult to get in mid-century New York, and

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20.
Advertisement for Male Safes, Regulating Pills, and Birth Control Devices. 
This advertisment for condoms, abortifacients, and birth control devices was
 included in an 1870 brothel guidebook. (Courtesy of the New-York Historical 
Society, New York City)

well-known abortionists advertised widely. Notices were put in newspapers, handbills, and brothel directories, and their messages were only slightly veiled: "Ladies cured at one interview with or without medicine, $5. Regulating Pills, $6." Also advertised were "monthly pills, to remove obstructions and irregularities, however produced."^[63]

The abortion business boomed despite laws regulating the practice. In 1828 New York was one of the first states to pass a criminal statute on abortion, which would hold an abortionist criminally liable if he or she performed an abortion on a woman after her pregnancy had reached "quickening," or the first perception of fetal movement around the mid-point of the pregnancy. Because the law was intended not so much to control abortions as to protect women from quacks and unsafe medical practices, it did not penalize the woman on whom the abortion was performed. The abortion rate during the first three decades of the century has been estimated at approximately one abortion for every twenty-five to thirty live births, and initially the anti-abortion law appeared to effect little change in abortion practices. In the decade of the 1840s, however, there was a marked shift in the birth rate, perhaps caused by women's greater understanding of birth control and intervention methods as well as the increased availability of abortifacients; by the 1850s, the estimated ratio of abortions to live births was one abortion for every five to six live births. This trend continued for two more decades, while abortionists such as Madames Restelle and Costello became famous and prosperous, as did male practitioners such as Jacob Rosenzweig and Dr. Charles Jackson.^[64] A number of court cases and sensational news stories involving abortionists in the 1840s were instrumental in the passage of a new anti-abortion law, which made pre-quickened abortions illegal and imposed penalties on the woman herself for seeking or performing an abortion. But the provisions of this tougher ordinance were never enforced. Law officers looked the other way, and the public and the press appeared fairly quickly to become less concerned.^[65] Consequently, women from all walks of life and marital statuses, prostitutes included, took advantage of the tolerant attitude toward abortion that existed until the end of the Civil War. ^{[ 66]}

When William Sanger surveyed prostitutes about their abortion histories, he got a very small response—only 1.75 percent of the two thousand women said they had ever had an abortion: one widow, five women who had been married, and twenty-eight single women. ^[67] Since

officials believed that fully 20 percent of all of the city's pregnancies were being aborted, Sanger concluded: "That prostitution largely contributes to this crime can not be doubted, but to what extent must remain unknown, from the secrecy which surrounds it." The actual number of abortions procured by prostitutes, he was sure "would be startling."^[68] A quarter of a century earlier, the Reverend McDowall had voiced the same belief, based on what a reformed prostitute had told him: "It is a common practice every three months to use means preventive of progeny." He noted that the "means" used were "balsam copaiba and spirits of turpentine," which, he added, "won't work."^[69] These two substances were only a few of the products used by nineteenth-century women as intended abortifacients. Other substances ranged from quinine, iodine, oil of tansy, seneca snakeroot, and black cohosh to patented pills containing hellebore, ergot, iron, aloes, powdered savin, and extracts of tansy and rue. Internal medicines such as these produced abortions only in dosages so large that they caused harsh bodily reaction--treatment so severe that the result was sometimes lethal. Mechanical abortions were considered less dangerous, although they, too, were painful, harmful, and sometimes fatal. Most mechanical abortions were induced with rudimentary catheters, but some were caused by knitting needles, sticks, or wires. ^{[ 70]}

Although the extent of abortion among prostitutes cannot be accurately determined, newspapers confirm that prostitutes were among the many New York women utilizing the services of "professional" abortionists. During an investigative hearing about Madame Restelle, one woman testified that while visiting Restelle's house she had seen a socialite, a Sunday school teacher, and a twenty-three-year-old "kept woman" who pretended to be a milliner and had been to Restelle's nine times before for the same purpose. Some prostitutes, such as Susan Smith, never had the option of making a return visit. In March 1840, Dr. Charles H. Jackson performed "an abortion with an instrument" on Smith, a procedure from which she subsequently died, causing Jackson to be charged with manslaughter. A number of prostitutes' abortions may have been performed in their brothels, and, unless a death occurred, no one was the wiser. Sarah Tuttle, a brothel servant, tried to self-induce an abortion by taking oil of tansy, but instead caused her own death. ^[71] In 1846, the Police Gazette reported that a "so-called doctor" had delivered a five-month-old fetus to a young prostitute named Mary

Arkley, in the attic of Honey Brewster's den at 474 Broome Street. Arkley later died, and an investigation was conducted. In a notation in his diary two weeks after Arkley's death, Robert Taylor mentioned that he and police clerk E. T. Cory had gone to:

Mrs. Brewster's, 474 Broome Street, and Mrs. Pratt's 472 Broome, houses of the same character . . . to obtain information in relation to an abortion said to have been caused at Mrs. Brewster's, and the mother of the child died in consequence.^[72]

One prostitution-house keeper knew the legal risks involved in having an abortion performed in her house, so refused to allow a young woman to take the prescribed treatment at her residence and warned her that only a fool would try to get rid of the child at that point in her pregnancy. This house keeper, Eliza Taylor, was one of many people who testified in the abortion trial of Dr. Thomas E. Gage, who was charged with killing the child of prostitute Ellen Gallagher. The proceedings of the Gage trial give one a glimpse of the milieu surrounding the practice of abortion as well as the complicated and dangerous procedures often faced by young women who had unwanted pregnancies.

The Gage trial occurred during the period when reformers were working to get seduction laws passed in the state legislature, and abortion was frequently coupled with the seduction issue in the press. Within this emotionally charged atmosphere, each party in the Gage case tried to discredit the other on charges that related as much to issues of seduction as to the abortion for which the trial was being held. Gage and his co-defendant, William Davis, the man who had made Gallagher pregnant and arranged for her abortion, brought witnesses to court who claimed that Gallagher was a prostitute and was unsure of the paternity of the child. Furthermore, Gage argued that the medical procedures he used on Gallagher were "normal" and could not have produced an abortion. Gallagher, on the other hand, claimed she had been forcibly seduced by Davis, her employer, and that he had subsequently abused her during and after her pregnancy. She also described how he had arranged for her to have an abortion. ^[73]

Between the allegations and disclaimers was the story of a young woman who at age sixteen or seventeen became unhappy with child care and domestic service and left these positions to become an employee in Davis's refectory. After being "seduced" in a manner approaching

rape, she lived in several assignation or prostitution boarding houses. In about her fourth or fifth month of pregnancy, she was taken by Davis to visit two separate abortionists, who treated her with a variety of abortion procedures. It was not until her sixth month of pregnancy, however, that these procedures succeeded in causing Gallagher to abort a live fetus, which was "thrown into the vessel under the bed" and then "wrapped in paper and thrown from the dock." In the weeks after the birth of the baby, both Davis and his business partner physically abused Gallagher, causing her finally to file assault and battery charges against them, which led to the abortion investigation and trial.

Davis, the seducer or paramour, seemed far more familiar with the world of illicit sex and abortion than did Gallagher. In fact, it appears that it was Davis who informed her she was pregnant. He first took her to Madame Restelle, who said she was no longer performing abortions because she was in court at the time on an abortion charge. Davis challenged Restelle's refusal by pointing out that she had recently given medication to a woman he was living with at another address! Apparently, Restelle agreed to give Gallagher some pills, but they had been "like sawdust and did no good." Gallagher then went to see Dr. Gage and moved into Eliza Taylor's, where she planned to live while having Gage's treatment. When Taylor would not let her stay, Gallagher moved to Sarah Clarke's house, an establishment that Dr. Gage had used previously for keeping a woman. Apparently the doctor first prescribed several types of abortifacients, one of which was administered by house mistress Clarke in some tea. In all, Gallagher lived at Clarke's for five weeks before the abortion was successful. Presumably she was continuing Gage's various forms of treatment with no results during this period of residency. She testified that during the last week of her stay, she had "daily operations." The final operation, performed with a wire, brought on premature labor. Once in full labor, Gage was sent for, and he "had to use an instrument to get her to deliver."

At the trial, Gage was able to bring several members of the medical profession to testify on his behalf, claiming that he was an excellent doctor and that the procedures described by Gallagher could not produce an abortion and were the normal actions of a doctor. In response, the prosecution presented the testimony of a doctor who had practiced obstetrics for twelve years and who stated that "what Gage did had been calculated to produce an abortion." After twelve and a half hours of

deliberation, eight jurors voted for conviction and four for acquittal, so Gage and Davis were discharged, a result that appeared in keeping with usual dispositions of abortion cases.^[74]

Since legal practice did not hold a pregnant woman liable for her own abortion (even though technically she should have been under the revised laws of 1845-1846), one New York prostitute openly used the abortion statute to wreak revenge upon her doctor/lover. Ann Lloyd, who was living at the brothel of Mrs. Phillips on Church Street, went to the local druggist, Dr. John Sloat, for medical advice. After an examination, he gave her some pills which made her very sick and caused her to abort. A few days later Sloat persuaded Lloyd to let him keep her as his mistress at Mrs. Balch's, and he also took her savings to ensure that the money would "be properly cared for." Evidently, Sloat soon tired of the arrangement and failed to return, leaving unpaid bills. When Lloyd went to Sloat's office looking for him, he abused her and kicked her out, prompting her to file charges against him for procuring an abortion, false pretenses, and assault and battery.^[75] Apparently the opprobrium of having had an abortion was not great enough to offset the satisfaction Lloyd got from bringing three charges against Sloat.

Lloyd's actions also raise the question of whether prostitutes considered abortion so much of a disgrace as Sanger assumed they must have when he received so few affirmative responses to his questions on abortion. Instead of indicating reservations about the propriety and legality of abortion, the prostitutes' lack of responses may have indicated that they did not have as many abortions as contemporaries believed. One of the reasons the public believed prostitutes had numerous abortions (beyond the assumption that prostitutes were characteristically profligate) was that so few pregnancies or offspring were observed among members of the profession relative to the number of sexual encounters they had. Judith Walkowitz has suggested that few children were visible in prostitution residences because many were boarded away from home; because prostitutes successfully used a combination of contraception, abortion, and infanticide; and because prostitutes were sterile as a result of venereal disease. ^[76] It seems probable that prostitutes controlled their reproduction less by abortion and more by contraception and sterility, as the Sanger responses suggest.

Recent medical research has suggested that immunological factors may also contribute to a lesser role for abortion as a form of birth control

among prostitutes. As early as 1871 Charles Darwin suggested that a direct relationship between sexual promiscuity in women and infertility may exist on the basis of exposure to semen. Several studies since have pursued this question, including one at the Department of Obstetrics and Gynecology at the University of Michigan Medical Center which confirmed that prostitutes have "poor reproductive histories and a high incidence of spontaneous abortion." The Michigan study suggests that prostitutes' frequent exposure to sperm causes a high percentage of them to develop an allergic reaction to sperm (or immunization to sperm) that results in infertility. Furthermore, prostitutes were found to have twice as many spontaneous abortions after becoming prostitutes as they had had before joining the profession, though the cause could not be attributed to the same immunologic reaction.^[77] Consequently, the combination of venereal disease, contraception, and immunologic reaction may have meant that, while their respectable sisters were using abortion more and more as a means of birth control, nineteenth-century prostitutes resorted to abortion less frequently.

With all other birth control methods failing, the prostitute's final option for avoiding the burden of a child was infant abandonment or infanticide. Many newspaper stories attest to the fact that this was a community-wide problem in the mid-nineteenth century, and some of the unidentified infants must have been the children of prostitutes. In fact, infant death statistics rose so sharply in the middle decades of the century that the issue became a topic of concern to the Common Council, and infant deaths were given special scrutiny by authorities. ^[78] When prostitute Arabella Martin's one-week-old baby boy died, a coroner's inquest was held to determine the cause of death. The coroner ruled that the baby "came to death by being accidentally suffocated while in bed with his mother," a believable accident under the circumstances, but also a means of infanticide that would be difficult to prove. Although prostitutes, like other women, might resort to infanticide, the more common and acceptable alternative was having and raising the child.^[79]

A prostitute may have felt that others were to blame for many of the problems and dangers she faced on the job--harassment, violence, disease, pregnancy--but some potential problems, such as alcohol and drug abuse or an inactive or indolent lifestyle, she "chose" for herself, even though her work environment fostered the development of these

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21.
Bar at Five Points. Illicit sex and alcohol were linked together in the 
minds of most nineteenth-century New Yorkers. Prostitutes frequented barrooms, 
such as this one at the Five Points, for entertainment as well as recruiting. 
(Courtesy of the New-York Historical Society, New York City)

problems and seemed to exacerbate their severity. These "self-inflicted" problems also were those that contemporary observers believed reflected a weak and debased nature and for which they had less sympathy. Consequently, observers' remarks and histories often tended to distort the reality of prostitution by ignoring prostitutes' own accounts and presenting a stereotypical portrait of an inebriated and lazy prostitute.

Alcohol and drugs appear to have been part of many prostitutes' lives, and contemporaries viewed alcohol addiction among members of that profession as a most serious substance abuse. The Reverend McDowall asserted that "intemperance and prostitution are inseparably connected," and Sanger claimed that "not one per cent of the prostitutes in New York practice their calling without partaking of intoxicating drinks." Even though Sanger's survey question asking prostitutes if they drank intoxicating liquors received a five-sixths affirmative reply, he said he was "compelled to believe that this is not the whole truth, for it is almost certain that . . . [those] who claim to be total abstinents indulge themselves in occasional potations."^[80]

Alcohol was definitely a part of the prostitution culture, as well as of society generally, because it was a major source of revenue--in the brothel, saloon, concert hall, and dance hall. Most brothels sold high-priced champagnes, wines, or other forms of liquor, but contemporaries generally agreed that, in all but a few brothels of a higher rank, what one bought had "nothing in common with the genuine articles of commerce but the name." The same was true of the liquors sold in many secondary prostitution establishments; they were either watered down or "the cheapest and most poisonous 'raw spirits' that the markets afford."^[81]

Contemporary observers noted that it was considered a disgrace among the "more aristocratic prostitutes" to be intoxicated, and alcoholism could cause a woman to be dismissed from an upper-class brothel. Although the lower establishments often did not consider inebriation so disreputable, proprietors knew intoxication could interfere with business, and many would not allow inmates or waiter girls to drink liquor until the end of the evening. To keep customers drinking, prostitutes were supposed to join them with "temperance drinks" or colored water. Still, presumably many prostitutes, like their customers, were under the influence of alcohol some of the time. ^[82] Streetwalkers were said to be the most intemperate of the profession, and many of them used "liquor stores" (small local bars) as their resting places during their nightly perambulations. With their pocketbooks rather than a brothel keeper governing their drinking habits, some streetwalkers bought the strongest liquors they could afford.^[83]

Writing in the 1860s, George Ellington noted that the kinds of alcoholic beverages imbibed by New York's parlor-house prostitutes were greatly influenced by their Parisian sisters. He gave a list of recipes for fashionable drinks popular with prostitutes, which included liqueurs such as curaçao, anisette, Kimmel, Beaumarchais, and absinthe or oil of wormwood, the latter ingredient being considered strong enough to have a deleterious effect on the nervous system of the women. Although "fashionable" drinks may have been popular with some, the vast majority of prostitutes depended on gin, rum, beer, and cheap wine for their daily tippling.^[84]

Alcohol was the most widely used drug by prostitutes, but it was only one of several addictive substances resorted to by women in the profession. Sanger did not inquire about the use of drugs other than alcohol

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22.
Smoking Opium. Opium, a popular drug among men and women of 
many social classes in the nineteenth century, was believed to be used 
frequently by prostitutes. (Courtesy of the New-York Historical Society, 
New York City)

and is surprisingly silent on the subject, since most other observers noted prostitutes' frequent use of other drugs. In the 1840s Smith noted that:

Drinking gin is exceedingly common. Use of opium scarcely as much so, yet among prostitutes is sufficiently common, but the almost universal stimulant is the yellow scotch snuff, with which they fill their mouths several times a day, rubbing it upon teeth and gums, until they induce a complete intoxication. ^[85]

Two decades later, writer James McCabe also noted that among prostitutes the "use of narcotics is . . . very common." He went on to point out that all the drugstores in the vicinity of prostitution houses were known to sell large quantities of opium, chloroform, and morphia.^[86] George Ellington put the problem in its larger context by noting what others had often pointed out:

Women of all classes of society in New York use stimulants and narcotics to a greater or less extent, but the demi-monde in particular, above and beyond all

others, are addicted to these unwholesome and life-destroying habits. If the women of fashion are compelled to use various kinds of opiates to induce sleep, how much more are the women of pleasure. ^[87]

The popular use of opium also had been noted in the 1840s by George Templeton Strong, who wrote in his diary that "opium chewing prevails here extensively, much more so than people think,"^[88] an indication of the intentional use of the narcotic over and above the amount many people ingested as one of the ingredients in a variety of popular patented medicines. In fact, one historian has stated that there is considerable evidence now "that a large proportion of middle-class American women in the late nineteenth century stayed stoned for most of their adult lives," an evaluation which also possibly could have been made about a large proportion of prostitutes but which indicates a behavior not at odds with that of other contemporary women. ^[89]

Ellington concurred with McCabe that morphine and opium were two of the most popular drugs in use, but he stated that laudanum (tincture of opium) was the favorite of the demimonde, being used by these women to a "fearful extent." He noted that hashish and arsenic had been popular a few years before, but their use had declined. Although some prostitutes and other citizens may have become addicted by morphine or opiate-laden medications prescribed by doctors, it was not difficult for them to continue their habits afterward or for a newcomer to begin a habit. Narcotics could be bought cheaply at drugstores, and, as a contemporary pointed out, most New York drugstores were located in the area where prostitution houses were concentrated.^[90]

Most contemporaries believed prostitutes used drugs and alcohol because their lives were so degraded and dangerous. Alcohol was said to help prostitutes maintain an "artificial state of excitement, which is indispensably necessary to their calling," and both alcohol and narcotics helped the women escape their problems by reducing inhibitions. Alcohol addiction was also believed to be hereditarily and environmentally induced, since studies like Sanger's showed that three-fourths of the prostitutes' fathers had had intemperate habits, as had over half of their mothers. A prostitute's environment encouraged intemperance because she had to try to get customers to drink in order to raise profits, and joining the clients was always a temptation. George Strong also expressed the novel conclusion that the consumption of opium had increased for the New York populace because "the blessed Temperance

Movement" had made alcohol less acceptable. A final reason given for why prostitutes used drugs and alcohol was the moralistic evaluation that "a love of stimulation seems naturally to follow a life without industry or objective." As with most of the evidence, it is impossible to decide where statements of fact end and moralistic presumptions that all vices were more extreme among prostitutes begin. The tone of most such claims, however, suggests self-righteousness more than observation.^[91]

Whatever the causes of alcohol and drug use, the results were injurious to some prostitutes. Alcohol was a precipitator for much of the violence associated with prostitution, and inebriation sent many prostitutes to the penitentiary for drunk and disorderly conduct. Equally important were the effects on the prostitute's health from long-term use of addictive substances. In some cases, one did not have to wait very many years to see harmful physical consequences. Twenty-five-year-old Julia Potter, a girl of the town, went on a "spree" for a couple of days and then "before going to bed drank half a pint of gin at a draught." The next morning she was found dead, and the coroner ruled that intemperance had been the cause of her death.^[92]

A final hazard of the prostitute's working situation was emotional and psychological strain--mildly symptomized by boredom, escapism, and lack of incentive, or more severely experienced as despair and depression. One critic stated that the "prostitute's life is as idle as it is dissolute"--a vacuous existence without effort or goal. Supporters of this opinion believed the prostitute was "only intent on killing time," and had no taste for literary amusements or any kind of employment such as sewing or needlework. Card playing was said to be a common pastime, but commentators believed prostitutes seldom "gamed" or gambled with each other because it was assumed they had little to win or to lose. Most often, cards were used for fortune-telling since prostitutes were believed to be "ignorant, superstitious, and living by luck; they place great reliance upon this mode of looking through the curtain of the future." Physician Smith also pointed out one more peculiar characteristic of prostitutes that he said had been noted by many other physicians besides himself: "They eat and sleep much and have a tendency to obesity. Three-fourths of the prostitutes are of more than ordinary fatness." With no recognition of the relationship between eating and sleeping disorders and depression, Smith attributed these characteristics to the fact that "prostitutes are sensual by nature."^[93] These descriptions of the prosti-

tute's depraved, idle, dissolute, and wasteful life are often at odds with other information available. Although observers may have disapproved of the prostitute's leisure activities and domestic pursuits, evidence suggests that prostitutes were as active, as literary, as involved with life, and as goal-oriented as other women.

Prostitutes also were not unlike other contemporary women (and men) in expressing "despair" about their lives. Lewis Saum has noted that expressions of despair were commonplace among nineteenth-century Americans, illustrating an essential grimness in the life views of many ordinary citizens.^[94] Many observers likely assumed that, if life was grim for respectable Americans, it must be even worse for the prostitute. One contemporary noted that "in the melancholy peculiar to fallen women there is an amount of suffering and disease that few of our readers have any conception of."^[95] "Melancholy," "remorse," and "mental anguish," phrases euphemistically used for depression, were often applied to prostitutes and used as explanations by contemporaries for alcoholism and drug abuse and for the prostitute's ultimate act of emotional desperation--suicide. A number of contemporary writers claimed that: "Suicide is quite common among this class of women," or more simply, "[Prostitutes'] suicides are frequent."^[96] Another observer took a more fatalistic view: "Once entered upon a life of shame, however brilliant the opening may be, the end is certain, unless she anticipates it by suicide."^[97] Newspapers confirmed that suicides were common in mid-century New York, and some of these were of prostitutes, such as nineteen-year-old Mary Bishop, who "ended her miserable existence by a dose of laudanum."^[98]

Although suicide reflected the prostitute's ultimate inability or unwillingness to cope with her life situation, there were coping strategies used by prostitutes that made the difficulties inherent in the profession more manageable. Current sociological research indicates that a "socialization process" is necessary for a woman to become fully integrated into the prostitution profession, or what the nineteenth century would have termed the "underworld" of prostitution. Part of the socialization process involves adopting the argot and social mores of the prostitution culture, but it also involves some identity changes. Symbolic of such identity changes for most nineteenth-century prostitutes was taking a new name, a step that, though it may have served to hide one's true

identity, or to protect one's family or future options, also seems to have been important in initiating one fully into the prostitution subculture. ^[99]

Nineteenth-century New York prostitutes always used two names--a given and a surname--and in most cases both of these were new. Prostitutes did not feel bound to the new name, however. After a while, some took a new pseudonym, and some used several aliases simultaneously. Others used variations on their names: Jane Graham Western sometimes went by Jenny Weston or Jenny Graham, and Rosina Townsend was sometimes listed as Rosanna Thompson. A few chose flamboyant nicknames such as Cinderella or Honey, but most used very conventional names with no special significance, at least to those unfamiliar with the woman's private motives. One prostitute stated in a court hearing that the surname she chose for working in New York was that of her last lover in Boston. The pseudonyms of prostitutes suggest an element of shame and subterfuge in the profession, but also an ability to choose an identity rather than being given one by a father or husband. ^[100]

Many patrons of prostitutes also went by aliases or nicknames. This was done partly to hide their true identities but was also an aspect of the fantasy world of brothels and illicit sex, where one could select a title and persona different from one's socially defined respectable self. Most of the men who frequented Rosina Townsend's parlor house went by aliases--Richard Robinson, for example, called himself Frank Rivers--and the John Holland divorce case brought out that Holland went by the illustrious title of "Marquis" when he visited New York brothels. Testimony in the Gage trial also noted that the co-defendant William Davis had used the name Brown in a Grand Street brothel. ^[101]

Once a prostitute gave up her real name, she appears to have continued using a prostitution name even though she may have employed several variations or nicknames of the new chosen name. Census, tax, court, and death records all appear with the prostitute's selected name, not her given name. One ingenious prostitute challenged this custom by arguing in court that a disorderly house case against her should be thrown out on the basis that she had been charged under the name Emily Tooker, the name by which she was known to brothel residents, patrons, and officials, but her real name was Emily Tucker. The judge refused to accept her argument, and she had to pay the $100 fine. ^[102]

Whatever the psychological value of the new nomenclature in helping one adapt to the life of prostitution, it seems to have been significant to the socialization process in the profession. Becoming part of a subculture with its own special customs, language, folklore, and history was important in helping one cope with working conditions and life situations that were often difficult; it also permitted creation of a new world and self freed from some of the difficulties and unhappinesses prostitutes had encountered in the respectable culture. Equally important, however, and perhaps even more critical in determining how one dealt with the day-to-day life of prostitution, were the people a prostitute interacted with and the personal relationships she established with these individuals, relationships that created for her a private as well as public life.