Farmers Weekly Review

By Sandy Vasko

WARNING, THIS COLUMN NOT TO BE READ BY YOUNGER OR MORE SENSITIVE READERS!

Yes, today we need this disclaimer, for today we are going back into the seedy side of life in that den of iniquity – Joliet.

Joliet was, first and foremost, a canal town. And this meant those rough and rowdy canal boat men were constantly in “town” for whatever source of entertainment they could find, along with some female companionship. This fact alone tended to attract the absolutely wrong kind of crowd.

And where there are men and drink, there are women. Most of them fine and upstanding, but ah! There are those poor, soiled doves, who, for one reason or another, followed the wrong path in life.

And where the soiled doves roosted, we found those who rallied against these sinful places. We read of one such incident as early as July of 1860, just after the Civil War started:

“The Drenching Out – On Friday night a party of men and boys took out one of the Fire engines and proceeding to a house of ill fame on Des Plaines Street, kept by the notorious Joe Williams, literally drenched and washed out that establishment and its wretched inmates.”

But despite laws banning such houses of ill fame, they continued to exist in Joliet, and were well-known. And frequently, they were the cause of violence, as in this incident from 1873: “A disgraceful and brutal stabbing affair occurred at a house of ill fame on north Hickory Street, Wednesday morning. Three pretty hard looking cases who style themselves John Hussey, Peter Curtis and Jack McCarty, were brought up before Squire Hendricks Wednesday afternoon, when the following facts were elicited.

“The three individuals, after enjoying a little drink and a walk about the city, at the fashionable hour of 2 a.m., applied for admittance at a house which of late has been gaining some notoriety in that part of town, and upon being refused, forced their way in, for the purpose, it seems, of killing anybody and everybody they might find within.

“They immediately ‘went’ for a young man by the name of John Egan; Hussey, the most bloodthirsty one of the trio, attacking him with a large knife, cutting him in the throat, along the face and ears in a terrible manner. From the evidence it appeared that the infuriated demon Hussey sucked the blade of the knife which was reeking with the blood of the victim, and otherwise demonstrated that he was bent on murder.

“The women came to the rescue and knocked down one of the villains with a bottle, when Egan, wounded as he was, managed to escape from the house. The alarm was soon given down town, when Officer Patrick hurried to the scene, arrested the three ruffians and soon had them safely lodged in jail.”

And two year later, “Shooting scrape in a house of ill fame – There was a terrible cleaning out last night at that renowned house of ill fame on the Lockport road. It was visited by a party of Joliet boys, among whom were Jack McCarty, and so we are told, Godfrey Hussey, who for some reason, probably drink, got to quarreling among themselves, and before they had finished, the house was pretty well torn to pieces. Shots were exchanged and Jack McCarty received a slight scalp wound from a stray bullet; half an inch more and Jack would have been beyond the reach of human aid.”

In 1876, the Joliet Sun newspapers started calling for stricter enforcements of the law, and a general cleaning out of these houses. Marshal Cunningham took up the call, we read in, “Cunningham’s Corral – Harriet Baxter and Jessie Carsen are “Pulled” by the City marshal, charged with keeping a house of ill fame – On Monday Marshal Cunningham swore out a warrant before Justice Hendricks against one Harriet Baxter, as principal, and Jessie Carsen, an inmate, charged with keeping a house of ill-fame on Jefferson Street.”

And, “The fallen sirens – That degraded shanty on Van Buren Street, and its miserable inmates, was, in slang parlance, “pulled” last night by Marshal Cunningham. The women keeping it claim their names as Julia Hand and Mrs. Wells, and hail originally from Springfield, Ill. The first portion of their career in Joliet was commenced on the West Side, where they kept a low place, and by the exertions of the decent people in the neighborhood were routed, only to settle again, like hawks on carrion, near the St. Louis depot, in a swampy ague spot, eminently fitted for their purposes.

“Complaint after complaint has been made by different parties, but it seems never reached the proper authorities, and the place was allowed to go on as before. Finally, THE SUN took up the matter, and pushed it to an arrest which took place as narrated above. The women were brought up before Judge Hendricks, this (Saturday) morning, and were tried on the charge of keeping a house of ill-fame. Several witnesses were examined and upon the testimony and general reputation of the women, a conviction was gained and the fine placed at $25 each.

“However, the fine was suspended upon the condition that the women would leave town Monday morning, which they promised to do. More miserable, degraded creatures could not well be imagined. They are as low as human beings could possibly get and still live. The brother or husband of the one calling herself Julia Hand is a convict in the penitentiary, convicted of counterfeiting, and sent up from Springfield. The other woman, claiming to be Mrs. Wells, is about forty years of age, and one of the hardest cases on earth. The city will be well rid of these pests. Now let Marshal Cunningham go for Hat Baxter and her crew and clean them out, and the city will be rid of its worst characters.”

But unfortunately, Marshal Cunningham was alone in his efforts, and those soiled doves were never really eradicated. And as the steel and rolling mills opened up, new houses of ill fame did as well.

Sandy Vasko is Director on in of the Will County Historical Museum & Research Center and President of the Will County Historical Society.