Notoriously Bad Character

The True Story of Lou Graham and the
Immigrants and Sex Workers Who Built Seattle

lou graham’s (true) story is long overdue.

Almost five years ago, I was approached by an academic press who wanted me to write something. I pitched a book and then signed a contract to write a book about a woman who lived in Seattle around the turn of the 20th century. She ran a brothel. She bought up a ton of real estate. She kept a jewel-encrusted “miniature dagger” stuck in her hat for self-defense and flashiness. She was a boss. And most of the stories you’ve heard about her aren’t true.

I spent the next three years in weird archival spaces until the pandemic closed them all down and, at the end, I had a book that I was pretty proud of. And then the publisher cancelled the contract.

Since then, I’ve tried to get this book published through traditional channels. I’ve queried agents and solicited advice. And mostly, I’ve been approached by people who want to know more about Lou Graham. Like, almost every single week, someone has emailed me to ask me to tell them more.

This is a good story. It’s a story about humans, about history, and about how we talk about our own past. I want you to read it, so I’m publishing it myself and I’m making it available for five American dollars.

why is it five dollars?

Because I think getting the story out there is more important than like, making money. But I have also spent years doing this research, visiting a number of archives, and that’s worth something.

Also, I hope that if anyone finds this research useful that they’ll let me help them turn it into a streaming series. It would make a truly excellent TV series.

If you do use this research, please be a homie and credit me.

Plus, a lot of this material isn’t easily available elsewhere (like you can’t just Google most of this), so making it accessible feels like the right thing to do.

Now Enjoy these excepts from the book

In case you’re hesitant about dropping a sawbuck on this book, or if you’d just like to learn more about Lou Graham, here are a handful of anecdotes and little bits you’d find in the book.

About that Seamstress Rumor…

It takes a high degree of faith to write a history about a woman whose life was more unknown than known. There are no known photos of Lou Graham. No letters have survived her, no diaries or personal documentation. Everything to be learned about Lou Graham is found in newspapers, city documents, and legal materials — and much to be learned about her must be unlearned first. That is not a good enough reason not to learn everything we can about a woman who we know, beyond a doubt, was an influential presence in Seattle’s first century. If only because there is, to this date, more misinformation available about her than there are true stories. 

Graham’s story is the story of Seattle, though — and Seattle’s story is that of Lou Graham. And untangling the mythology from the truth can teach us about both.

An example is that of the great “seamstresses as sex workers” conspiracy. 

In the first United States census that included her name, Graham’s profession is listed as a dressmaker. In every subsequent Census, though, she’s listed clearly and with no qualms as a “bed house worker.” 

The entry as a “dressmaker” on the Census has long been explained by the historically-curious as a euphemism; previous historians36 have hunted for coded language to cover up the goings on of Seattle’s brothels and box houses. Prior narratives have alleged that sex workers would tell census workers that their job title was “seamstress”  in order to avoid disclosing their real line of work. 

It’s more likely that Graham, growing up in Germany in the era before the industrialization of garment manufacturing, was skilled with a needle and thread. She may very well have been employed as a dressmaker, crafting garments and making alterations as she made her way from New York to Seattle. 

The first confirmed entry for Graham in a United States  census puts her in Seattle in 1889, where she’s listed as a “bed house keeper.” She was, at this time, just 32 years old, and had already established her business. 

This census entry confronts a prolific myth about Graham (and Seattle in general). Contrary to popular historical retellings, there is no proliferation of seamstresses, even among the women listed as lodgers at houses of other known madams. 

In the 1910 census, a dozen women in their 20s were described as lodgers at the house of Lila Young, another prominent madame — most likely because that’s where they lived and were when the census official came calling. In using that location, the women were offering a tacit, though public, admission of their career — the census man would have had no question about what they did or why they were there — so there was no reason to lie. They listed that they had no profession or job title — but in the area where the nature of their industry is meant to be, someone at the time of the census had written “Prostitution?” stretching across numerous lines. 

The grand conspiracy of sex workers masquerading as “seamstresses,” though, simply does not exist. There are only a handful of women listed as seamstresses in the 1885 territorial census in King County and the majority of them — like Mattie Latham, age 57 or Rachel Clymer, 59-year-old mother of two — appear to have stated their profession truthfully, rather than in a tawdry cover-up. 

This is a small, though clear, example of the challenges when attempting to trace the life and movements of Lou Graham — and, for that matter, of any person who came out west and didn’t become a local celebrity. In the absence of letters, journals, or other first-hand accounts — popular with those who were traditionally educated and thus, wealthy — there has been copious guesswork and quite a bit of imaginative backfilling. Much of it has not been in good taste, sacrificing historical accuracy for humor. 

UNEXPECTED HELP

Graham didn’t just buy nice things for herself; as her star rose in the underworld, she also frequently used her money to the benefit of others, opening her doors to various ragamuffins and abandoned children, as well as footing the bill for the legal fees of women both in and out of her employ. 

When a woman named Victorine Margott (or Moregott, depending on which newspaper you read) was convicted of killing her lover, a burly wrestler who she alleged had beaten her, Graham came to the rescue. Margott, who “had very little money left” after paying to defend herself in her first trial, was on the edge of destitution during her trial in the early summer of 1900. But “help...came from an unexpected quarter,” the Daily Times reporter wrote. 

Graham had agreed to put up $1000 to pay for the woman’s defense, citing gossip she’d heard around the neighborhood that Margott was being railroaded. 

Whether or not Margott and Graham knew each other in any manner that was more than passing isn’t clear — it’s possible that Margott really was a girl from the neighborhood, and that Graham might have borne witness to the bruises and scars that her lover had commonly laid upon her. Graham may have also heard tell of her lover, as intel about “bad johnnies” was frequently swapped in a kind of whisper network. Or, Margott may have worked for Graham and that it was in Graham’s best interest to get her out of jail quickly and alive. 

For whatever reason, Graham posted the $1,000 for Margott’s legal defense.

Margott was also helped by another “fallen woman,” who testified on her behalf. Clara Williams, who was an “inmate of the Central Lodging House,” another brothel in Whitechapel, alleged to be in a room near the one where the fight took place. However, Williams, who is described as a “color witness” in one account, was viewed with deep skepticism by all sides. 

“The Williams woman swore that she heard...quarelling,” though Margott’s own attorney was making the case that he was stabbed in his sleep. 

Williams took an enormous risk taking the stand, though — she was summarily thrown in jail on a $500 bond and sentenced to 10 days in jail for “being a lewd person.” 

“The proceedings this morning were interesting,” related the court reporter, adding that she “described with minuteness the cruel treatment...the story was not a pleasant one for the jury to listen to.”

Whether it was the added cash for defense, the selfless testimony of sex worker, or Margott’s heartwrenching story of physical abuse and the fear that she felt for her life, it worked; she was acquitted of the murder. 

There is often a question about what kind of life the women who lived in her buildings might have experienced. Were they staying there against their will, was she some kind of benevolent house mother?

The answer is, most likely, that she was neither.