Harlots of the Barbary Coast
The burgeoning metropolis of San Francisco during the California Gold Rush was a landscape dramatically skewed in its gender ratio. In this era, a woman was an anomaly, a sight nearly as rare as an exotic elephant. A child was an even more exceptional spectacle. This scarcity elevated women, even those engaged in the oldest profession, to a position of unusual reverence. The Harlots of the Barbary Coast, typically marginalized and scorned, found themselves the recipients of exaggerated deference, a peculiar consequence of the times.
Men would patiently stand for extended periods, simply observing the few children at play. Whenever a woman graced the streets, business came to a virtual standstill. She would be trailed by an admiring throng, with impromptu committees forming to clear her path and shield her from the overly enthusiastic greetings of the emotionally charged miners.
A vivid anecdote illustrates this phenomenon: During a crucial auction of city lots within a Montgomery Street building, a man interrupted the proceedings by announcing, "Two ladies going by on the sidewalk!" The entire assembly promptly abandoned the auction, surging into the street to witness the women’s passage. While accounts suggest they bared their heads in respect, this detail may be an embellishment added by a storyteller’s flair. This atmosphere created a unique stage for the Harlots of the Barbary Coast.
Estimates suggest that in the spring of 1849, there were a mere fifteen white women residing in San Francisco. However, this figure is debatable, as San Franciscans often restricted the label of "white" to natives of the United States and select European countries. Regardless, the female population likely remained below three hundred for at least a year following the gold rush’s onset. Of this number, approximately two-thirds were believed to be harlots hailing from Mexico, Peru, and Chile. These women, along with male immigrants from these and other Central and South American nations, were collectively referred to as "Chilenos" or, disparagingly, "greasers." The Harlots of the Barbary Coast arrived with the promise of the gold rush.
These pioneering prostitutes established themselves in tents and makeshift board shanties near Clark’s Point, where Broadway and Pacific Street converge with the Bay, and on the eastern and southern slopes of Telegraph Hill. Telegraph Hill, a 300-foot elevation west and north of Yerba Buena Cove, served as a vantage point from which the arrival of ships through the Golden Gate was signaled to the town nestled in the valley and along the beach. Often, multiple Chileno women shared a single, rudimentary shelter. They received visitors individually or in groups, with scant regard for privacy. Their accommodations were sparsely furnished, typically consisting of a washbasin and a few dilapidated cots or straw pallets. While some feigned operating washhouses, nearly all dedicated their nights to boisterous revelry, sexual excesses, and displays. Such opportunities were also seized during daylight hours. The early Harlots of the Barbary Coast had already started carving a place for themselves in history.
Many of the men who had accompanied these women to California had continued onward to the goldfields. However, others remained in San Francisco, cohabitating promiscuously with the harlots. They subsisted on the women’s earnings and whatever they could pilfer from the men who frequented the district. They also operated a handful of small, dishonest gambling establishments.
During the first half of 1850, approximately 2,000 women, predominantly harlots, arrived in San Francisco from France, other European countries, and cities in the Eastern and Southern United States, notably New York and New Orleans. Subsequently, they arrived on every ship, and within a few years, San Francisco boasted a red-light district that surpassed those of many cities several times its size.
In October 1850, the Pacific News reported the anticipated arrival of 900 additional women of the French demi-monde, carefully selected from the bagnios of Paris and Marseilles for their beauty, amiability, and skills. In the same issue, the newspaper delicately informed its readers that Indian women were available in the mines "at reasonable prices." Regrettably, only fifty of the French women materialized, but that number sufficed to ignite considerable excitement among the miners, who were naturally eager to ascertain whether the ladies were as proficient in their profession as rumored.
Most of these accomplished courtesans were accompanied by their pimps, whom they referred to as macquereaux, a term that the straightforward San Franciscans swiftly shortened to "macks." This unsavory designation persists in San Francisco, despite the official abolition of the red-light district some twenty years prior. While the city may no longer have officially recognized prostitutes, the legacy of the Harlots of the Barbary Coast remains.
The most destitute of the newly arrived harlots joined their sisters in sin in the run-down dives on Telegraph Hill and along the waterfront. Others established or became residents of elaborate establishments around Portsmouth Square. Through diligent dedication to their profession, many of these women accumulated substantial fortunes. One popular French courtesan purportedly amassed fifty thousand dollars in clear profit during her first year of professional activity in the New World. Several married prominent men and ascended to positions of consequence, successfully burying their past. The Harlots of the Barbary Coast, due to the shortage of virtuous women, particularly those residing in the elegant bagnios on Portsmouth Square, played a significant role in the social life of early San Francisco. They were especially sought after as partners at the fancy-dress and masquerade balls that the frolicsome miners used to entertain themselves.
According to an early historian, these events "exhibited the most extraordinary scenes, as might have been expected when the actors and dancers were chiefly hot-headed young men, flush of money and half frantic with excitement, and lewd girls, freed from the necessity of all moral restraint."
These functions typically took place in one of the large gambling houses, with the gaming tables temporarily relocated to make space for the festivities, although gambling never ceased. The events were publicized through notices in newspapers and placards posted in streets and public houses, all prominently displaying the warning: "NO WEAPONS ADMITTED."
Several men were stationed at the entrance, requiring each prospective reveler to surrender their knife, revolver, or pistol for the duration of the festivities, receiving a check in return.
If anyone claimed not to be carrying a weapon, the statement was deemed so implausible that they were promptly searched. Almost invariably, a knife or firearm was discovered concealed in some unusual part of their clothing. Music for dancing was provided by the regular gambling-house orchestra, but the entertainment program always included a soloist who would sing, at least once, to the tune of "O Susannah!," the miners’ favorite song:
I came from Quakerdelphia,
With my washbowl on my knee;
I’m going to California,
The gold dust for to see.
It rained all night the day I left,
The weather it was dry;
The sun so hot I froze to death,
Oh, Anna, don’t you cry.
Oh, Ann Eliza!
Don’t you cry for me.
I’m going to California
With my washbowl on my knee.
I soon shall be in Frisco,
And then I’ll look around;
And when I see the gold lumps there
I’ll pick them off the ground.
I’ll scrape the mountains clean, old girl;
I’ll drain the rivers dry;
A pocketful of rocks bring back,
So, Anna, don’t you cry.
Occasionally, the mistresses of the large harlotry establishments hosted elaborate social affairs, inviting the most influential men in town. They cleverly combined pleasure with profit by introducing new girls to their guests, showcasing old favorites in new exhibitions, and charging exorbitant prices for liquor served during the function. However, some of these gatherings were surprisingly respectable. One such event is described in The Annals of San Francisco:
"See yonder house. Its curtains are of the purest white lace embroidered, and crimson damask. Go in. All the fixtures are of a keeping, most expensive, most voluptuous, most gorgeous. . . .It is a soirée night. The ‘lady’ of the establishment has sent most polite invitations, got up on the finest and most beautifully embossed note paper, to all the principal gentlemen of the city, including collector of the port, mayor, aldermen, judges of the county, and members of the legislature. A splendid band of music is in attendance.
Away over the Turkey or Brussels carpet whirls the politician with some sparkling beauty, as fair as frail; and the judge joins in and enjoys the dance in company with the beautiful but lost beings, whom tomorrow, he may send to the house of correction. Everything is conducted with the utmost propriety. Not an unbecoming word is heard, not an objectionable action seen. The girls are on their good behavior and are proud once more to move and act and appear as ladies.
Did you not know, you would not suspect that you were in one of those dreadful places so vividly described by Solomon. . . .But the dance is over; now for the supper table. Everything within the bounds of the market and the skill of the cook and confectioner is before you. Opposite and by your side, that which nor cook nor confectioner’s skill have made what they are—cheeks where the ravages of dissipation have been skillfully hidden, and eyes with pristine brilliancy undimmed, or even heightened by the spirit of the recent champagne. And here the illusion fades. The champagne alone is paid for. The soirée has cost the mistress one thousand dollars, and at the supper and during the night she sells twelve dozen of champagne at ten dollars a bottle! . . .No loafers present, but the male ton; vice hides itself for the occasion, and staid dignity bends from its position to twine a few flowers of social pleasure around the heads and hearts of these poor outcasts of society."
The story of the Harlots of the Barbary Coast is a complex tapestry woven with threads of desperation, opportunity, and societal upheaval. Their existence was a reflection of the unique circumstances of the Gold Rush, a time when traditional social norms were challenged and redefined. While their profession may have been stigmatized, their presence undeniably shaped the character of early San Francisco, leaving an indelible mark on the city’s history.