Sex Sells: Prostitution During the Civil War

By: Kate of The Exploress

We tend to think of Victorian-era America as cinched in tight and buttoned up to their clavicles, but they liked sex as much as anyone. And where there’s desire – and war – there is money to be made. Harlots, Cyprians, soiled doves, public women. Sex workers existed, and when the Civil War came, they flourished. All of them used their wits and their wiles to keep afloat amidst a sea of prejudice and STDs. 

On the frontier, prostitutes were largely responsible for turning man-filled mining settlements into actual townships, and they were so popular that the enterprising amongst them sometimes became the richest person in town. Take Mary Ann Hall. The so-called “Madam on the Mall” made enough money as a sex worker in Washington, D.C. that she could buy a plot of land on the National Mall and build her own bawdy house. For over 40 years, she ran a fancy brothel just a stone’s throw from the Capitol Building, hobnobbing with some of the nation’s most illustrious. In a time when most women often couldn’t own property or make it without a husband on their arm, the 1860 census shows her holdings at $18,000. When the remains of her house are found in 1997, an archaeological dig found hundreds of expensive champagne corks. When the Civil War came in 1861, she was making enough to keep the bubbly ever-flowing – and she wasn’t the only one.

The Civil War saw a huge uptick in prostitution. In occupied cities where soldiers were billeted, far from home and with little to do outside of drilling, houses of ill repute popped up in spades. In Nashville, the number of prostitutes jumped from about 200 in 1860 to 1,500 just two years later. In Washington D.C., some reports put the number of bawdy houses at 500 and the number of sex workers at 5,000. One soldier wrote to his wife that “it is said that one house of every ten is a bawdy house – it is a perfect Sodom.” Others – A LOT of others – were excited about the situation. “I tell you,” one wrote, “Lager Beer and a horse and buggy and, in the evening, Horizontal Refreshments.” (editor’s note: Horizontal Refreshments! Band name, I call it!) In Memphis, some enterprising women set up floating brothels. They would swim up next to naval boats in, as one guy put it, “a costume similar to that worn by Mrs. Eve.” Soldiers even set up villages for them near their barracks. One young Sanitary Commission worker wrote home to his father about how soldiers in City Point, Virginia, used army money to set up a “whole city of whores.” 

“It is said that one house of every ten is a bawdy house – (Washington DC) is a perfect Sodom.”

-some horny soldier

The military higher-ups didn’t love the influx of ladies of the evening. In D.C., General Order 17 decreed that police should arrest “all public prostitutes and all persons who lead a lewd and lascivious life.” When such orders failed, officials took on the ‘out of sight, out of mind’ approach, shoving them into designated areas. But the dangers they posed couldn’t be contained within a few city blocks. As Confederate soldier J. M. Jordan wrote home about such dangers: “I feel a delicacy in spelling them out to you as you are a female person, but however I reckon you can’t blush little things these times. It is the Pocks and the Clap.” 

Venereal disease amongst the troops was a serious crisis. The Union army saw more than 73,000 cases of syphilis and 100,000 of gonorrhea. About 1 in 10 Union soldiers will catch themselves an STD. Men with obvious signs of venereal disease were discharged, sent home to infect their wives. Hooray!

Symptoms weren’t nice: blindness, paralysis, infertility, and birth defects. Treatments were straight out of a gothic fantasy novel. I’ve found doctor’s notes about the use of black wash, blue vitriol, and lunar caustic. Are those even real?! One of the most effective was a mercury steam bath. I’m pretty sure the only long-term effect of mercury is…dying. But as they say, “a night with Venus, a lifetime with Mercury.”

The generals blamed sex workers for spreading such ailments to soldiers. After all, STDs come from the (obviously evil) uterus! The Union Major General in Nashville was especially concerned about all the cavorting going on in that city’s “Smoky Row.” So he came up with a plan: If he couldn’t make his soldiers stop going to the ladies, then he would remove the temptation entirely. So in 1863 the Union provost marshal, George Spalding, rounded up many of the city’s prostitutes, forced them onto a boat called (I kid you not) the Idahoe, and sent them upriver. Bye, girls! I love a boat party as much as the next gal, but many of these women didn’t even have a change of clothing, and what alcohol they’d managed to get on board was gone by Day Two. No surprise, then, that knife fights happened. The panicked captain tried to unload his cargo at Louisville and Cincinnati, but no one wanted the contents of his “Floating Whorehouse.” After 28 days, they returned to Nashville and squatted on the docks until the authorities had to let them return.

So the army changed tack. Maybe they couldn’t stop sex from happening, but they could make sure it happened safely. Enter America’s first – and last – stab at trying to regulate prostitution. Each prostitute was made to register, buying a $5 license that gave her permission to work.

An Army-approved doctor would examine her every 10 to 15 days, which of course she had to pay for. Prostituting without a license, or failing to appear for scheduled examinations, meant arrest for up to 30 days. If she didn’t pass the exam, she’d be sent to Hospital #11, or “the Pest House”, and wasn’t allowed to leave until she was 100% cured. Hospital or prison? Hard to say. But for many, this was a big quality of life improvement. They weren’t scared of being arrested. They got regular and reliable medical care, and their STDs could be caught early and treated, which was good for soldiers AND the women. The doctors treating them even learned some things about venereal diseases. Turns out that the Evil Uterus was NOT where STDs came from! Go figure.