Wicked Women

by Enss, Chris

  Jessie was humiliated by the arrest and insulted by the press’s claim that she was a “notorious woman in the underworld.” After paying the $200 bail, she left the jail and went back to work. She vowed that it would take more than an arrest to give up her business.

  A scandal the following year involving a saloon owner, a prominent San Francisco land owner, and Madam Hayman prompted Jessie to close the doors of her Post Street house. When news that the respectable land owner had been frequently seen at Jessie’s brothel and was helping to fund the addition to her Post Street house, the pair became the talk of the town. Jessie’s partner not only denied their association, but also joined forces with the proprietor of the saloon next door to the bordello and persuaded politicians to shut down the disorderly house.

  After the demise of the parlor house on Post Street, Jessie devoted all of her time and attention to her Ellis Street business. Federal laws prohibiting the hiring of prostitutes who had not been in the Unites States more than three years kept her from running the day-to-day operations as she normally did. Many of Jessie’s boarders were from France and Russia. Laws were already in place to halt the transportation of such women into the country, but immigration officials felt the code needed to extend to parlor house operators. Jessie was the first madam to be arrested for harboring illegal immigrants.

  On August 25, 1908, US marshals raided Jessie’s newest home on Mason Street and found an Englishwoman in her hire that had been in the country for only three months. Both she and Jessie were arrested. Jessie’s $10,000 bail was raised by several of her friends—prominent men who had spent a great deal of time at her parlor houses.

  While awaiting trial on charges of “harboring and maintaining an alien in a house of ill fame,” Jessie witnessed the arrest of several other madams in the city. Local police could still be bought off, but federal officials no longer allowed themselves to be manipulated on this matter. Within six months the majority of bordello owners and operators who had spent a fortune on bribing the police and government officials were arrested and carted off to jail.

  At the trial Jessie took the stand in her own defense and testified that the young woman working for her was not a prostitute but an entertainer hired to sing and perform on the piano. The federal officers testified differently and submitted proof that the young girl was indeed a prostitute and had worked for several parlor houses throughout the West before settling at Jessie’s place. Jessie cried and pleaded with the jury to believe her version of the story, but they were not persuaded. Jessie was found guilty and sentenced to a $300 fine and thirty days in jail. Madam Hayman served her time at a prison in Alameda and then returned to work at yet another house on Mason Street.

  After remaining there for a short time, she decided to close the location and open a new business across town. Jessie’s grand establishment on Eddy Street was another three-story building with three fireplaces, a saloon, fifteen suites, a dining room, and a massive kitchen. According to boarder Beverly Davis, who lived and worked at the location, the interior was an impressive site:

  She had a champagne cellar with wine from all parts of the world. Whoever furnished the house knew his stuff. There was a red room, the Turkish room, the French room, the blue room. Oriental couches and shaded lamps, such plush rooms, one after another with deep carpets on the floor. The bedroom upstairs was done in the best style. It reflected the tone of the parlor house all the way through.

  The number of boarders at Madam Hayman’s Eddy Street location varied from twelve to fifteen women. In 1912 all of the ladies in her employ were Americans. The list of residents included two girls from Tennessee, one from Kentucky, three from Missouri, two from Colorado, one from Nebraska, four from California, and two sisters who were Comanche Indians from Texas.

  After sixteen years as a San Francisco madam, Jessie Hayman retired and decided to travel the world. She toured a variety of countries, including Japan, China, India, Palestine, and Egypt. On March 31, 1923, in a hotel room in London, she died from a massive heart attack. A maid found Jessie seated in a chair. She was elegantly dressed for dinner and wearing many of the diamonds she had acquired over her lifetime. The fifty-six-year-old ex-madam never married. She left the bulk of her $116,000 estate to her eight-year-old niece, her five brothers and sisters, and her two cats.

  Gertrudis Maria Barceló

  The Evening Angel

  “A female was dealing and had you looked in her countenance for any symptom by which to discover how the game stood, you would have turned away unsatisfied; for calm seriousness was alone discernable and the cards fell from her fingers as steadily as though she was handling only a knitting needle.”

  Traveling actor Matt Field, 1839

  A smartly dressed man stopped just outside the Barceló Palace in Santa Fe, New Mexico, and flicked a speck of alkali dust from the black satin lapel of his immaculate frock coat. He then inspected the creases in the legs of his trousers and gave his expensive brocade waistcoat a firm tug. It didn’t do for people to enter one of the finest gambling houses in the West in disarray. Cardsharps and faro dealers at the Palace could always spot an amateur gambler by the way he dressed. Any professional would know that proper attire in such an establishment was a must. Gertrudis Maria Barceló, the alluring owner of the gambling house, expected the clientele to reflect the sophisticated atmosphere of the business itself.

  The charming, cigar-smoking lady gambler first began welcoming guests into her lavish business in 1842. After shaking the dust and mud from the street off their boots, patrons stepped onto a plush carpet that led to a massive mahogany bar. The gigantic room, which housed a number of stylish accoutrements, featured ornate mirrors on every wall. Spectacular chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and exotic statues from Europe added to the posh setting.

  Upon entering the Barceló Palace, wealthy gamblers were escorted by handsome women in Maria’s employ to private card rooms. There, the sultry proprietor dealt cards for a poker game called monte. The popular game was easy and fast. Any number of people could play against the dealer, also known as the bank. The game worked this way: The bank drew one card from the bottom of the deck and placed it faceup on the table. This was known as the bottom layout. One card was then drawn from the top of the pack and placed faceup on the table for the top layout. The players (also called punters) bet on either layout. The pack was then turned faceup, and the card showing on the bottom was known as the gate. If the suit of this card (heart, spade, etc.) matched one of the layouts, the banker paid the bet. The banker won the bet if the gate was not the same suit as the layout.

  Maria was known as the Queen of the Monte Dealers. She was a shrewd banker with agile fingers and a poker face that very few could ever read. In between hands she kept her affluent clientele comfortable, serving them free alcohol and providing them with a lavish array of food to eat. An assortment of delicious pastries, cheeses, and meats was offered around the clock. And when the men were through at the tables, the entertainment continued upstairs with the sporting women who had led them to Maria at the start of their visit.

  Señora Barceló, or La Tules, as she would later be called (translated, the name means Gertrude), was born in Sonora, Mexico, in 1800. Her parents were extremely wealthy and lavished their daughter with every advantage, including an education. Maria was bright, ambitious, fiercely independent, and stunning. She had a dark complexion, long black hair, and dark eyes. From an early age she possessed the self-assurance of a person who knew how to take care of herself.

  In 1823 she demonstrated her autonomy by going against her father’s wishes and marrying a man of very little means named Jose Cisneros y Lucero. In an effort to assert her own self-reliance and prove that the gentleman married her for love and not money, Maria insisted he sign a prenuptial agreement of sorts. The agreement allowed her to retain her maiden name, the money and property she was destined to inherit, and the right to enter into b
usiness negotiations on her own. The deal she struck was unconventional but proved to be a wise move.

  Before Maria and her husband settled in Santa Fe, the couple visited the saloons and dance halls in Albuquerque and Taos to gamble. The pair enjoyed playing poker and sat in on a variety of games, with Maria always winning more than she lost.

  Gertrudis Maria Barceló was a charming, cigar-smoking poker player known as the Queen of the Monte Dealers. Her gaming house in Santa Fe was a posh establishment with wall-to-wall mirrors.

  Library of Congress, LC-DIG-PPMSCA-02901

  Using her substantial earnings and a portion of her dowry, Maria set up her own gambling parlor near a rich mining camp in the Ortiz Mountains. With her spouse by her side, the two operated the casino, making fast enemies of the intoxicated prospectors who lost to them and believed they were cheats. The pair was redeemed in the eyes of their patrons after they managed to separate two of the area’s most respected and best poker players from a large amount of cash.

  Maria dreamed of more than running a low-rent, high-stakes gaming den frequented by unrefined men. She wanted an opulent parlor that would attract patrons. In 1826 she purchased a grand saloon and filled it with expensive furniture and velvet curtains. The Barceló Palace quickly became a favorite with Santa Fe’s fashionable society.

  Most nights the gambling house was occupied solely with monte players and five-card draw enthusiasts, but on special occasions Maria reserved the facility for fancy balls. The elaborate parties were attended by Mexican officers from a nearby post. She hosted such celebrations to commend the military leaders for their service and entice potential gamblers.

  The Palace was well known throughout the New Mexico area, not only for its high-class games but also for the female staff that worked there. Maria’s women were fashionable, impeccably groomed ladies who serviced the various gamblers in their rooms on the top floor of the establishment. The “evening angels,” as they were called, were provided with fine, spangled dresses, jewelry, and hand-tooled belts complete with a hidden derringer. If any customer got out of line, the girls were instructed to defend themselves.

  In addition to being a successful business owner, Madam Barceló was a calculating investor. She increased her wealth by bankrolling mining ventures, hotels, and freight lines. She operated her empire from behind a green felt monte table. Thousands of dollars passed through her hands as well as valuable information about the Mexican government’s intention to overtake the American civilian government office in Santa Fe.

  The war between Mexico and the United States began with a struggle over who would control Texas and extended over the entire Southwest. Maria came down on the side of the United States. She supported its efforts by loaning troops money and providing them with necessary supplies. After learning of an eminent attack against the government by the Mexican Indians, she alerted the American authorities. The scheme, which was scheduled to take place in December 1846, was subsequently thwarted.

  Maria’s husband did not approve of her involvement with the Anglo army, but that was just one of many areas in which he did not share her views. His wife kept company with many leading politicians, and it was rumored that her relationships went well beyond discussing the emerging United States boundaries. Among the many affairs historians note that La Tules had was one with the governor of New Mexico, General Manuel Armijo. Jose eventually tired of his wife’s philandering, and the two went their separate ways in 1848, a few months after the United States and Mexico signed the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo.

  Senora Barceló’s marriage may not have lasted a lifetime, but her time at the monte table did. Maria lived out the remainder of her life managing her famous gambling hall and dealing cards. One visitor who stopped by the Palace in 1850 recorded in his journal that “the fine lady La Tules had become wealthy dealing monte . . . and even at the age of 50 was lovely and her bank was almost always open.”

  When Maria Barceló passed away in January 1852, she was the richest woman in Santa Fe. Her funeral was just as extravagant as the gambling parlor she called home. The Catholic church that hosted her burial service was lit with hundreds of candles. Several men dressed in handsome vaquero costumes and high-peaked sombreros trimmed with metal conchos were in attendance. She was remembered by those present as “sylphlike in movement with a slender figure and a finely featured face . . . a beautiful woman with a steady proud head and the demeanor of a wild cat.”

  The fortune she left behind included several houses, livestock, and cash. It was divided among her family members, the church, and city officials to be used for charitable work.

  Josie Washburn

  Nebraska’s Reluctant Madam

  “From reckless despair she drifted into the life; it is with determination bordering on recklessness that she starts to quit it.”

  Josie Washburn’s thoughts on the reformation of a prostitute, 1905

  A large wagon filled with fallen angels rattled down a dusty street in Lincoln, Nebraska. It was daylight, but a hard rain obscured the sun. Three armed sheriff’s deputies walked alongside the crowded vehicle, grinning from ear to ear. Raindrops bounced off the tin badges pinned to their slickers. The drenched passengers huddled together like chickens caught in a storm.

  Dignified citizens stared out of shop windows and saloon doors at the public women under arrest that were being paraded through town. Some of the humiliated prostitutes hid their faces with scarves; others hung their heads in shame. Josie Washburn, a pretty, neatly dressed brunette in the center of the wagon, kept her eyes fixed on the gawking residents. Her pride was wounded, but she refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing that she’d been broken.

  The ride to the jail was slow and deliberate. Lightening streaked across the sky, and the rain fell in sheets. As the wagon passed by the bank, two businessmen stepped into the doorframe and laughed at the sight of the soaked women. The insensitive chortles brought the maniacal rage lapping at Josie’s senses to a high flame. At once she was on her feet. “You don’t think we have feelings!” she shouted. “We may be whores, but we have feelings just like anyone else.”

  Thunder rolled overhead. Josie glanced around at the stunned onlookers. “You need us to protect the good women here, you say!” She bellowed over the sound of the violent weather. “And you treat us like livestock!” One of the deputies ordered her to “sit down and shut up.” Josie glared at him. He leveled his shotgun at her and pumped the barrel. “Go ahead,” she dared him. “Put me out of their misery.”

  Until Josie Washburn was motivated to do so, almost no one spoke out on behalf of public women. They were talked about, mistreated, and shunned by society, but little understanding was given to why some women were driven to prostitution. Josie’s lone voice and extensive writing on the subject exposed the conditions that perpetuated the profession.

  Josie began working at parlor houses in Omaha, Nebraska, in August 1871. She was seventeen years old. Born in the Northeast to parents of Scottish and Norwegian decent, she was given the name Helena. Anna Wilson, the first madam the young girl worked for, changed Helena’s name to one that was more suitable for the trade. Historians speculate that Josie was abandoned at an early age and forced to make her own way. Job opportunities for women were limited. Desperation and the threat of starvation led many to the profession.

  Anna’s brothel was a home for Josie and the other girls who worked there. For many of them it was the first place they felt they belonged. In spite of the dire circumstances, a sense of family prevailed among the residents of the house. Josie stayed at Anna’s for more than eight years.

  Josie was arrested numerous times on prostitution charges during her employment at Madam Wilson’s. The public humiliation of being dragged into court took its toll on her after time. The shame she felt for the life she was forced to live overshadowed the devotion she had for Anna and the other women
at the house. Unable to continue on, Josie attempted to kill herself using a borrowed revolver. Her unsteady hand caused the weapon to miss its intended mark. She suffered a bullet wound, but it was not fatal. Newspaper reports claimed the shooting was an accident.

  Posting a photograph alongside a prostitute’s license was an effective advertising ploy.

  Author’s collection

  A proposal of marriage gave Josie the chance to escape her sad lifestyle. When she exchanged vows with Frank Stone in early 1880, she believed her future had great promise. Stone was an educated man, and Josie was deeply in love with him. For fifteen years the pair drifted from one western town to the next. Frank proved to be anything but reliable. He was bad with money and gambled away large sums. He frequently left his wife alone for months at a time. Josie was devastated by his actions and in 1907 wrote about her disappointment:

  A man expects his wife to be an angel under any and all circumstances. The man pledges his protection, care and love for life, and upon these terms the woman becomes his wife, in full confidence that this love is permanent and lasting; in sickness or health she has a right to expect him to be true to her.

  The great burden of married life comes to the wife, who has her household duties, and the children to care for, and a thousand and one things to perform which make up the daily routine.

  When the husband comes home from his daily occupation, his wife has a right to expect his company during the evening; to her his presence is company, even though he chooses to bury himself in his newspapers.