Wicked Women Read online

  But she does not receive this consideration. He is absent night after night and often until the break of day, or for several days. When he arrives he is nervous and grouchy, and throws things around. While he is changing his wearing apparel he loses the proverbial collar buttons, strewing them upon the floor, and cussing because they are not as large as sledge-hammers. A man in that condition isn’t noted for his nimble fingers among other deficiencies. His wife comes to his rescue, fastens his collar, and observes that his breath hasn’t the aroma of violets, nor his blood-shot eyes the expression of remorse; he does not make the effort to hold his temper that he did the collar-button. With a scowl he tells his wife that he has been at a banquet.

  He remains at home for a night or two to rest up. Then he goes to another banquet, or club or he is called away from town on a matter of business, or important transactions kept him at the office, or he met some friends at a hotel who detained him; he volunteers this information without any interrogations from his wife, who trembles with fear that something is wrong. When men go out in bunches, they sometimes frankly admit to their wives that they have been out with the boys seeing the sights, but they don’t tell what they saw.

  In 1895 Frank abandoned Josie for good. He left her with numerous debts and no viable income. She was forced to return to the type of work she often referred to as the “underworld sewer.” Josie settled in Lincoln, Nebraska, and, after earning a substantial amount of money working as a prostitute, opened her own parlor house. Historical records show that she had five employees in June 1900. The clients that frequented her business were from all walks of life: politicians and pioneers, preachers and police.

  Josie took her job as madam seriously, looking out for the ladies in her hire in much the same way Anna Wilson had looked after her. According to Josie’s memoirs, “A wise matron of the underworld is a woman of many resources and sound judgment, which is gained by experience so severe that you would not believe it possible for a human being to endure.” Josie treated her staff with kindness and respect and protected them from violent men, drug sellers, thieves, and gamblers. “The madam is the best friend a girl has,” Josie wrote in her autobiography. Josie did her best to look out for her boarders’ well-being, but she could not protect them from the “violations” she was sure they would encounter once the bedroom door closed behind them. She believed that prostitutes “lost a bit of their soul each time they entertained a client.” Women new to the profession harbored the misconception that the wealthier a client was, the better they would be treated. Josie made it clear that the opposite was true.

  Upon the first arrival of the girl, she imagines that all her troubles will be gone when she becomes acquainted with the rich man, but there is no class of men who are less generous than the rich man when he is sober, although he will spend thousands of dollars for self-indulgence, buying champagne by the case. He will order all that the bunch can drink, waste, lave and wallow in.

  The girls are required to take a part in the lowest debauchery, for the amusement of this man, for which they are liberally supplied with money, besides the madam’s rake-off isn’t small; through all kinds of confusion she never loses sight of the business at hand.

  After a girl has been through one of these orgies with the rich man, there is nothing left in the line of vice that is not familiar to her. A girl might be in some parts of the underworld for years, and not have the knowledge or experience in vice that these girls have learned under the direction of one rich man, in a week or a month’s extreme revelry.

  Prostitution in Nebraska in the early 1900s was a lucrative line of work, and Josie Washburn’s house made a great deal of money. She and her girls were required to pay large sums to public officials to stay in operation, however. As the madam, Josie was required to pay a monthly protection fee of $14.70 to $29.70. Law enforcement officers varied in the way they collected the payments. Some were satisfied with allowing Josie to submit the payment through a messenger. Others required individual prostitutes to pay the fee in person at the jail. Women who did not have the money owed were thrown into a cell and held there until their bill was paid.

  “We always went [to the jail] with fear and trembling,” wrote Josie. “Whenever law enforcement wanted to prove to the public at large that prostitution was not being tolerated, they would load women from various parlor houses into a mud wagon and parade them through town. We regarded this treatment as unjust and cruel, but the effect was to make us more willing to part with our cash.”

  The experience of being “held up” by officers of the law happened repeatedly in the underworld.

  Opportunities for employment for men were vast. They could take any career path they wanted. Frontier women did not have the same advantages. So when men chose to own and operate a brothel, Josie was highly resentful. She considered “male-landladies” or “P.I.s” (an abbreviation for pimp) to be the most despicable members of the underworld.

  There is one (P.I.) in the city of Omaha who owns the greater share of the red-light district, which is of no small proportions in this city.

  This he-landlady leases and controls several alleys, on which he has built rows of cribs, both sides similarly arranged. Each crib consists of two small rooms, about six feet high; a door and a window forms the whole front. Each crib has a projecting corner, and a casual glance down the line gives it a scalloped appearance, which is meant to be artistic. . . .

  Some of the girls who exist in these alleys are those who have seen years of suffering, and are now addicted to dope and liquor. But the majority are the very young girls who are carried away by the excitement. . . .

  From these cribs, and the many big houses, is the deriving source of the monster’s great wealth—he who has paid the police and influenced politicians in his behalf for years. His monthly income from this horrible traffic is several thousands of dollars. He has become very wealthy from the pitiful earnings of human beings in debauchery.

  Whether spent as a prostitute or a madam, Josie’s years in the trade were filled with degradation and deception. “If one is to be successful financially, they must assume a variety of distasteful roles, lover, confidant and entertainer,” Josie admitted. Big-money customers were made to feel like they were the house’s favorite clients. In truth they considered these men to be worthless.

  “We haven’t any regard for him in our hearts, knowing that he has left a loving and truthful wife at home, who is counting the minutes of his absence,” she wrote.

  Public women were considered outcasts by churches, and hospitals turned them away when they came searching for health care. “Our women have absolutely no friends outside of their world,” Josie lamented in her journals. “No flood of pity will rush into the souls of good people for our belief.” She was appalled that laws were in place to prohibit the abuse of dogs, but there were no laws at all to protect and care for sporting women.

  Josie retired in 1907 and found legitimate work managing a boardinghouse. Hoping to educate people about the misery associated with the life of a public woman and the exploitation of prostitutes by ruthless businessmen and government officials, Josie began writing a book. Using the journal entries and notes she had penned over her twenty-one years in the business, she created a manuscript that described the horrible condition inherent with the social evil. She blamed corrupt men for the continuation of prostitution and noted that no matter what they might say, opponents would never abolish the profession. “As long as men desire the services found at parlor houses,” she wrote, “there will be men who solicit women for such services. Too many men derive wealth and political influence from prostitution to willingly end it.”

  Josie’s attempt to bring about change in the trade went beyond authoring a book. In 1911 she asked the Nebraska legislature for funds to build a home for prostitutes who wanted to leave the business. Her request of $100,000 was denied. She countered:

  That the underworld
woman is not permitted to reform is the firm conviction of all of our people.

  This conclusion is forced upon us by the decision of the Christian world, which is that if a woman has fallen she will never reform, and there is no use to try to help her.

  If the men, young or old, who come to us in our castles, houses, cribs, or dives, and associate with us in the sin of the underworld, should be disgraced and branded by the Christian and business world, this would go a long way toward reformation, as the men would try to avoid the disgrace.

  Does the Christian man or woman refuse to associate on equal terms with a man who is our associate and supplies the money which keeps your institutions going?

  Not long after Josie was denied the capital for her project, she relocated to Minneapolis and concentrated her efforts on getting her book published. The subject matter of her book made it impossible for her to find a publisher. The male-dominated industry took offense at her claim that the root of prostitution could be traced to men.

  Rejection from mainstream publishers only made Josie more determined to see her work in print. In 1925 she invested her own money and published the book, The Underworld Sewer, herself. She dedicated the work to the people of “Village, City, State and Nation, which both consciously and unconsciously maintain the social evil.”

  Three years after the book was released Josie moved to Spokane, Washington. All traces of her then disappeared. Historians speculate that she changed her name and started a new life, putting to rest her tainted, pitiful past forever.

  Kate O’Leary

  The Redheaded Rival

  “Rowdy Kate was a fine limbed powerful woman who was the only one who could handle the cowboys when they got too much of the cordials served at the bar.”

  Circus owner Colonel Lewis Ginger, 1870

  A hard rain was falling outside a modest cabin situated in the center of a barren stretch of land outside Kansas City, Kansas. Magnificent claps of thunder shook the structure, and bolts of lightning lit up the night sky and danced across the empty prairie valley. Kate O’Leary lay in bed, unable to sleep, staring out the window at the storm. In the near distance she could hear the sound of fast-approaching horses’ hooves. She quickly sat up and leaned back on the crude wooden headboard, waiting. A knock on the door a few moments later brought her to her feet. “Who is it?” she demanded through the unopened door. “We’re here with your husband, ma’am,” a voice responded.

  Kate cinched her robe tightly closed and swung the heavy wooden frame open. Three rain-soaked riders wearing dour expressions greeted the woman. “Where’s Bill?” Kate asked after scanning the faces of the strangers. One of the men stepped down off his horse and, trudging through the mud, made his way to the ride behind him. A body wrapped in several drenched blankets was lying across the saddle.

  Kate’s eyes filled with tears as she stood frozen, staring at the bundle. A gust of wind blew the relentless rain across her petite frame and distraught face. “He made us promise to bring him home, ma’am,” one of the riders said sympathetically. Kate slowly approached the lifeless form, reached out her hands, and rolled the blankets off the bruised, blue face hidden under them. Deep rope burns around the dead man’s neck bore witness as to how he had arrived at the unfortunate state.

  Rowdy Katie O’Leary entertained many cowboys, trappers, and prospectors as she dealt hands of poker to the enchanted men who were willing to lose their money to her. She used her winnings to purchase a gambling den of her own in Dodge City, Kansas.

  Searls Historical Library

  “You are Kate O‘Leary, ain’t ya?” the third man inquired. Kate simply nodded. “What did he do?” she asked. The rider explained that Bill was a cattle rustler and horse thief who had eluded the authorities for some time. After the outlaw and two of his cohorts were apprehended in the act of stealing, the men admitted to their crimes. “You hang people without a trial?” Kate snapped. Thunder rolled overhead as the men revealed that they were members of the Anti–Horse Thief Association and duty bound to deal harshly with such criminals.

  The vigilantes handed the sorrowful widow a leather pouch containing $400 and told Kate it was all that was on Bill at the time of his demise. They lifted the thief’s body off the horse and gently laid him on the ground outside the cabin door. They politely tipped their hats to the forlorn Kate and rode away into the stormy night.

  The following day Kate O’Leary buried her husband in the town cemetery. She stood over the freshly covered grave, shaking with great sobs. After several hours friends led the grieving widow away from the burial plot and back to her home, where she was left alone to contemplate her future.

  Career options for single women on the Kansas plains in 1869 were limited. But Kate was determined to do what was available to get by. She was a quick-witted, stunning beauty with an hourglass figure and long, red-gold hair, attributes that were well received by saloon patrons everywhere. Kate decided her job opportunities would be better in a bigger town, so she packed her meager belongings and headed to Dodge City.

  She was an instant success with the cowhands and trail busters who frequented the taverns in the wild burg. When Kate entered a dance hall, she stood out like a flame.

  It wasn’t the life her family had imagined for their child when she was a little girl growing up on a farm situated on the border of Missouri and Kansas. The grandmother who raised her had been a schoolteacher, and at one time Kate had considered entering the field. The exposure she had to the rough characters who passed through the area where she lived left a lasting impression on Kate and changed her outlook on the profession. Compared to the lifestyle of the fast-talking gamblers and ever-moving ranch hands, teaching was a bit too tame.

  Kate’s grandmother tried to bring the restless girl’s thoughts back to more appropriate pursuits. She even sent the teenager to a girls’ school in Kansas City, but it was to no avail. By the time she was fourteen years old, Kate had abandoned all thought of becoming a teacher.

  When typhoid fever claimed the lives of her grandmother and father, Kate was forced to find work to support herself. She hired on as a waitress in a hotel in Dodge City that catered to cattlemen. Her charming personality and good looks made her a favorite with the patrons. Bill O‘Leary was one of the enamored customers. Bill and Kate hadn’t been courting long before he proposed. They were married a month after their first meeting.

  Bill was kind but mysterious. He always carried large amounts of cash, and whenever he left for work he would be gone for days. He never shared his whereabouts with Kate and remained tight-lipped when asked about his job. He provided her with all the comforts she could imagine: clothing, jewelry, thoroughbred horses, and a new ranch house. Kate never suspected Bill was involved in anything illegal, and she overlooked his curious behavior when he would finally arrive home and shower her with gifts. It wasn’t until her husband was escorted home by three members of the Anti–Horse Thief Association that she fully accepted his occupation was that of a crook.

  Kate used a portion of the money Bill left her to purchase a dance hall and bordello. Thirsty patrons at Kate’s establishment were treated to the finest whiskey in the area and the company of one of six prostitutes. They were also invited to join the proprietor at the gaming table for a hand of poker. Kate had learned the game as a child and perfected her skills playing against her late husband. She dealt cards nightly, raking in a sizable amount in the process.

  Kate’s place was one of Dodge City’s most popular watering holes. Customers traveled back and forth from her business to another well-known saloon across town that was run by Joseph Lowe. Lowe was handsome, ambitious, and an immaculate dresser. He was a gambler, too, with a strong attraction for his redheaded rival. Kate couldn’t resist his charms, and in late 1870 the pair began a romantic relationship.

  The coupling was a volatile and passionate one. Nineteen-year-old Kate
and twenty-year-old Joe fought constantly, each refusing to alter their immoral lifestyle for the other. Both had quick tempers and were prone to jealousy, and more than once tried to outplay each other at poker. In spite of their dueling personalities, however, they were committed to one another and very much in love.

  In 1871 Kate and Joe sold their individual businesses and moved to Newton, Kansas. Upon arriving in the busy cow town, they jointly purchased a combination saloon / gambling den / brothel. The lovers’ “house of ill fame” was the hub of activity, and townspeople referred to the impetuous owners as Rowdy Kate and Rowdy Joe.

  Law enforcement paid frequent visits to the Rowdys’ place. Sometimes they were just customers, but oftentimes they were there to keep the peace. Joe had a talent with a six-shooter and was not opposed to drawing on someone trying to cheat at cards or flirt with Kate. When a traveling gunman persuaded Rowdy Kate to sneak off with him on February 19, 1872, Rowdy Joe went after them. He caught the pair at a competing brothel and shot the man in the chest. The controversy surrounding the man’s death forced Joe and Kate to relocate.

  After leaving Newton the couple settled in Wichita. They bought another saloon and went back to work gambling and selling drinks and female companionship. It didn’t take long for trouble to catch up with them again. Kate was a beautiful woman and attracted a lot of attention. Overt advances made by the clientele enraged Joe and brought on a violent response. His reputation as a hard man and a tough opponent in a fight grew. He pistol-whipped one customer and bit the ear off another for getting drunk and making a pass at Kate.

  Together Rowdy Joe and Rowdy Kate were involved in a dispute with a competing saloon owner named E. T. “Red” Beard. They fought over customers, employees, and drink prices. Beard’s temperament matched Joe’s, and he wasn’t opposed to settling disagreements with his fists or a gun. On October 27, 1883, Beard used both methods to handle a problem with a soiled dove named Josephine DeMerritt. The argument between the two started at Beard’s saloon but quickly shifted to Kate and Joe’s gambling den.