Tragedy strikes…

She lost both of her parents, within a short timeframe. At the age of six with nowhere left to go, she was taken in by her aunt. It was here, that Cecilia Elizabeth Doremus’ life began to take a downward spiral. While living with her aunt, Doremus was treated poorly. The Diary does not reveal why her aunt treated her the way she did or how she treated Doremus poorly. By the age of thirteen, Doremus’s aunt forced her into marriage with a ship-carpenter. Doremus never revealed her aunt’s intentions by marrying her off. After being married for ten months, her husband went to sea. Unable to maintain a place on her own, she moved in with her sister. When Doremus’s husband returned from seas sometime later, her life took another twist. Her husband moved her into another house. At the time, she was unaware of what the house was used for.

Unbeknownst to her, Doremus was living in a house of prostitution. Throughout the early 1800s, prostitution was one of the ways in which poor and working class women attempted to survive. For many, prostitution provided a better lifestyle.[1] In Hopper’s diary, he spoke to four women, including Doremus, who had been involved in prostitution. Moreover, prostitution was rampant throughout New York City.

Around the 1830s, there were plenty of places which openly allowed prostitution and may have even encouraged it."

For example, the Franklin, Italian Opera House, Richmond Hill Theatre were all accepting of “respectable women” who were accompanied by men. Within these theatres, third tier balconies were designated areas for prostitutes. Of course, this was defined as a “…rendezvous for negotiating commercial sex…” rather than prostitution.[2] There were even well-known Madams, such as Helen Jewett. When she opened her first brothel, Jewett marked the integration of prostitution into respectable neighborhoods. Essentially, prostitution was now occurring in areas that were unexpected. [3] Furthermore, prostitution was fairly protected through a relationship with police authorities. From 1840 to 1849, there quite a few areas within the city which housed prostitution. (See map.)

Tolerance of prostitution began to fade in the 1840s, especially with the passing of The Police Reform Act of 1845. With this new legislation, police were encouraged to prevent women from encouraging solicitation. Furthermore, the decreasing tolerance for prostitution was attributed to attitudes of civilians. The 1830s and 1840s marked the growth of Evangelical Christian reform movements aimed at eradicating sin and vice in cities. Moreover, reformers attributed to poverty, broken homes, and low wages.[4] By the 1850s, the era of prostitution changing.[5]

While many see prostitution as a choice, in Doremus’s situations, it does not appear to be a choice. Following Doremus’s time as a prostitute, her husband presented her with various gifts. One of the gifts given to her was a gold watch. After receiving the watch, Doremus pawned it for ten dollars. The events which occurred after this are unknown, as Doremus never mentioned them. Sometime in 1845, Doremus was caught and charged with grand larceny. It is unclear whether or not her past played any role in his decisions to commit grand larceny. During this era, grand larceny had two definitions. First, if the value of stolen property exceeds twenty-five dollars. The second is when property is taken from one person, no matter the value. Any person that is charged with committing acts of grand larceny could face imprisonment in a state prison for no more than five years. [6] In her case, Doremus was sentenced to two years in Sing-Sing Prison. It is important to note however, that Doremus’ conviction was under an alias, Mary Mottine. Doremus did not discuss her prison experience with Hopper. After being released from prison, Doremus moved in with her brother-in-law, Robert Savois. Hopper visited her and the family and noted that there were respectable. During this visit, Doremus mentioned her intention to secure employment by finishing hats.

In another correspondence with Hopper on February 1^st, 1847, Doremus writes that she has not be able to find employment, even with her expertise in hat making. At her request, Hopper gave her two dollars to purchase clothes. There was no further discussion with Doremus until May 20^th, 1847. At this time, she reported that she had found employment through finishing hats. She was doing well and had been better than when she was in prison. It was also revealed that she was taking care of his sister’s children, as her sister passed away.[7] For now, all was going well for Doremus.

Though all appeared well, the past has a way of coming back to haunt someone. During the month of June 1847, a man from her previous life began to stalk her. This man threatened to expose Doremus’s past to everyone, unless she became acquainted with him again. In order to escape this stalker, she moved to New Jersey. It is unknown what happened to the stalker or if the situation was fully resolved. Following her move to New Jersey, she took up employment with Joseph S. Logan. On June 16^th, Doremus returned to New York City to visit her sister’s children. It is unclear why they remained in New York City when Doremus moved. However, Doremus brought up a point of concern. The children were becoming unwell, after losing both their mother and father, within a short amount of time. Given this information, the past has come back to haunt Doremus. It is unclear how these life events have impacted Doremus’s overall progress in life. Considering Hopper had no more correspondence with Doremus, it is unclear what course her life took.

Doremeus’s story is just one insight into women’s stories in this era of rampant prostitution in New York City. Through her story, we see how she was taken advantage of and was tricked into prostitution and how with the help of the Prison Association and her family, she found her way to a better life.

[1], Timothy J. Gilfoyle, City of Eros: New York City, Prostitution, and the Commercialization of Sex, 1790-1920. (New York, N.Y: W.W. Norton, 1994), 277.

[2] Patricia Cline Cohen, The Murder of Helen Jewett: The Life and Death of a Prostitute in Nineteenth-century New York. (New York: Vintage Books, 1999), 76.

[3] Patricia Cline Cohen, The Murder of Helen Jewett: The Life and Death of a Prostitute in Nineteenth-century New York (New York: Vintage Books, 1999), 79.

[4] Timothy J. Gilfoyle, City of Eros: New York City, Prostitution, and the Commercialization of Sex, 1790-1920 (New York, N.Y: W.W. Norton, 1994), 277.

[5] Patricia Cline. Cohen, The Murder of Helen Jewett: The Life and Death of a Prostitute in Nineteenth-century New York (New York: Vintage Books, 1999), 85.

[6] Commissioners of the Code. "The Penal Code of the State of New York." New York (State) Statutes, 1865, 213.

[7] Hopper, Volume 2, 32.